


Morning Call

by Trizzas



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Black Zelda, Exploring Gerudo Characters, F/F, Gerudo Link, Gerudo Town, Ignoring Canon Becauae Canon Sucks, Post Calamity Ganon Defeat, Restoration of Hyrule, Trans Character, somewhat of an au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 04:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12450027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trizzas/pseuds/Trizzas
Summary: As Chief Of Military in Gerudo Town, self-proclaimed bodyguard and legal guardian of Chief Makeela Riju, Buliara hardly has a moment to herself. It seems that every day life gets more and more dangerous what with the recent sightings of a wild, adolescent Molduga, the new abundance of Hylians showing up expired in the desert, and The Yiga Clan throwing everything they have at the Gerudo Guard in revenge for Chief Riju sending Link to retrieve the Thunder Helm - killing Master Kohga in the process. She thought life with Calamity Ganon constantly threatening the future was hard but it seems like Buliara and the rest of the Gerudo people may have finally met their match.While Buliara sorts out the newly born trials of Gerudo life, a newly freed Zelda and her knight and companion Link are finally catching up on the lost years. After receiving a blessing from his lost wife Mipha, Link works on finally moving on, trying to find a new purpose in life other than being the Hero everyone wants him to be. Zelda, queen of a kingdom lost for over a century, works on her research. Lots and lots of research. Oh yeah, and being a traveling queen with no kingdom and re-introducing herself to the other civilizations of Hyrule.





	1. Fifteen Years Earlier

Buliara rode her first Sand-Seal when she was no older than sixteen years.

The reins were made of coarse rope and leather that stretched out a few feet to string around a metal loop on the back of the sand seal’s harness. The reins threatened to cut into her palms as she gave them an experimental tug. The Sand-Seal before her - an obese cow named Penny that Kohm, the manager of the Sand-Seal Rental Shop, swore up and down was always a good ride for beginners - sneezed loudly and Buliara grimaced at the sight of heavy mucus dripping from the creature’s snout. The iron shield she stood on wobbled slightly - it was dented thanks to a scuffle between her sister Teake and a Lizalfos which had ended with Teake proudly running home to their mother with a missing canine and a sprained wrist. Naturally, Muava had been less than pleased and had grounded Teake and then Buliara for lending her the sword and shield, postponing their sand surfing lessons a whole two months. While the other Gerudo teens learned how to handle the Sand-Seals tamed and kept in Gerudo Town, Buliara spent her time minding her family and catching up on her reading.

“Buliara, this is going to be so cool!” She was suddenly broken out of her thoughts by Teake’s loud squeal of wonder and excitement. Whereas Buliara was spiry for a Gerudo her age with dark skin, bright green eyes, and the fiery red hair native to the Gerudo, Teake was short, noticeably paler, and her mane of curls was contained inside of her white headscarf. A few wisps of said curls were slowly escaping her underscarf but she didn't seem to notice. Teake was practically vibrating with exhilaration, gripping the reins of her Sand-Seal as tight as she could. The other cow Kohm had brought out was younger and matched its spirited rider, snuffling happily and occasionally pawing at the sand in her eagerness to get moving.

“I should hope so,” Buliara intoned. “We did have to wait two months later than everyone else to finally learn how to ride a Sand-Seal.”

“Hey! It wasn't my fault. That thing attacked me first!”

“You took and dented my shield.”

“Shouldn't have given it to me then!”

“I wouldn't if I'd known you were going to fight a Lizalfos.”

“Whatever, at least we get Shabonne all to ourselves today,” Teake said, waving off their bickering.

Shabonne was their mother's eccentric friend and Gerudo Town’s Sand-Seal Surfing teacher who was hellbent on coaching her daughter, Tali, to be the world’s next Sand-Seal Racing Champion. As far as Buliara knew, Tali was far more interested in flirting with Laine and Lashley than spending hours riding across the Gerudo Desert.

Shabonne herself stood in front of the two, checking the horizon for upcoming sandstorms. They'd been getting them a lot lately, which meant that desert travel was steadily becoming more dangerous for tourists, traders, and Gerudo alike. Her loose and flowing maroon chador billowed around her as she finally turned around to address Buliara and Teake.

“Alright! Muava’s children! It's a little late to be learning how to surf, ain't it?” Shabonne cackled as Buliara shot Teake a look. “You little ones don't learn as fast we used to! I learned when I was nine!”

Alula, current primary Gerudo Chief of Gerudo Town, had passed a law prohibiting Gerudo minors from learning how to surf until they were sixteen. In recent years, the desert had become even more of a challenge to live in with the over abundance of creatures such as the Lizalfos and The Molduga and the fact that this particular generation of Gerudo were notorious for getting into trouble. After the law passed, there was an incident when some Gerudo teens had grown angry and, in response, attempted to tame wild Sand-Seals and prove to Chief Alula that they were capable. To make a long and painful story short, the group of teens never succeeded in even harnessing the Sand-Seals and a few were rushed to the physician’s home for immediate treatment for bites and scratches. No one had convinced Chief Alula to reverse the law, rather, they had only convinced her that she'd made the right choice. Now, schools refrained from teaching teens how to ride a Sand-Seal until they were the proper age with Kohm providing the Sand-Seals and Shabonne hired to coach.

“But never mind that,” Shabonne said. “Let’s learn how to ride! Now, first things first, are you two properly padded?”

Buliara checked herself. She'd dressed accordingly - a simple white tunic and a sirwal - and had been careful to strap the cotton pads to her elbows, knees, chest, and so on to avoid breaking her entire skeleton if she were to get flung off. She'd yet to find out if this padding actually worked, however.

“Yes!” Teake answered for the both of them, pumping her fist in the air.

“Excellent. Now, balance yourself directly in the middle of your shield. If it's dented or damaged in anyway, do your best to balance yourself and consider getting yourself a better shield next time.” Buliara flushed and looked down, adjusting her position as best as she could, hyper aware of the fact that her shield wobbled constantly. “Remember this: wooden shields are not as effective as metal shields. You do not want to know what it feels like to have your shield break while riding and thus all shields must be checked thoroughly before riding. So should your reins and harness. A frayed rein is not a reliable rein and a harness that is too big or too small or damaged in any way could potentially harm your Sand-Seal,” Shabonne said. “This is all important. Memorize it.”

She paused, allowing Teake and Buliara to take mental notes before continuing. 

“Now, Sand-Seal Surfing is most definitely a hands-on learning experience,” Shabonne continued. “I can sit on the sides and tell you everything you need to do but it is ultimately up to you to actually _perform_. So when I say ‘gently tug the reins’ then you-”

Buliara never heard the rest of Shabonne’s instructions. The sound of a pair of reins being cracked much too harshly and Teake’s responding yelp made Buliara turn around just in time to see her sister’s Sand-Seal dive into the sand and take off, yanking Teake behind her at breakneck speed.

“Stupid girl!” Shabonne rasped. “You're not supposed to start off in a dash! Buliara-”

Once again, Buliara didn't hear the rest of Shabonne’s words but this time she knew what was being asked of her. Pulling on the reins with enough force, Penny the Sand-Seal also dived into the sand and began to pull Buliara in the direction of the other Sand-Seal. Unlike Teake’s Sand-Seal, Penny started off with slow but powerful strokes before picking up speed. Buliara wobbled once, twice on her shield before almost instinctively bending her legs at the knee and leaning backwards. Something told her this was proper form. She looked back once, trusting her strong grip and Penny not to suddenly veer off in any other direction, and was reassured to see Shabonne quickly running back in the direction of Gerudo Town. No doubt she was returning to Kohm to grab another Sand-Seal and chase after the two of them.

Teake’s wailing could be heard even when she was only a speck on the horizon and Buliara snapped the reins of her own Sand-Seal in order to get closer. Penny answered positively, seeming to want nothing more than to race through the sand as fast as she could anyway. For a creature with so much blubber, Buliara did not expect Penny to move this fast. The surfing came naturally to her, even when her shield bumped against a rock half-hidden in the sand and jostled her, she found her balance again and lead Penny closer to Teake.

“Teake!” Buliara called out once she was sure her sister was in hearing distance. “You need to slow down!”

“I don't know how!” Teake answered, voice rising in a shrillness that Buliara recognized. Teake wasn't a crier but she was certainly close to it now. “She won't stop for nothing!”

“You're not controlling her!” Buliara barked. “Just holding the reins is not doing anything other than encouraging her to act wild! Watch out!”

Teake’s grip tightened back on the reins and she yanked them to the right just in time to veer around a large cactus patch. The action caused her to gasp and for a split second, her Sand-Seal slowed. Buliara used the small window of time to catch up, Penny and her sister’s Sand-Seal racing against each other. Teake’s teeth were clenched and she stood so stiffly on her shield she was certainly in danger of hurting herself should her Sand-Seal run into something or stop abruptly.

“Teake, look at me!” Buliara said. Teake tore her gaze off the dunes in front of them to look at Buliara. “I need you to bend your knees and lean back.”

“What?” Teake squeaked. “What does that do?”

“It's proper riding form,” Buliara explained. “Trust me, you'll have better control.”

When Teake still looked doubtful, Buliara snapped at her, “Just do it!”

Teake reluctantly fixed her position, forcing her muscles to relax and cautiously began to lean back. The improvement was instantaneous - Teake seemed to melt into the position and her Sand-Seal began to slow down. Buliara let out a sigh of relief. It seemed as though Teake had at least regained control of her Sand-Seal. Maybe Shabonne wouldn't need to rescue them.

Famous last words.

Faster than Buliara could see or feel, the ground in front of them suddenly burst, sand flying into her face and blinding her as Penny and Teake's Sand-Seal barked in fear. There was a horrible crunching noise and suddenly Buliara was thrown backwards, hitting the ground so hard all the breath in her escaped. She rolled down what was presumably a dune and stayed still, fighting to catch her breath and clear her eyes as pain suddenly exploded along her chest. Somewhere near her, something else thudded and she heard Teake curse.

Blinking furiously, Buliara forced herself up on her elbows from where she'd fallen. Pain splintered across her chest, making it much too hard to breath. Opening watery eyes, Buliara let out a groan at the movement and then fell silent at the sight she saw before her.

There were certain things in the desert that the Gerudo people were careful to avoid. Dehydration, Overzealous tourists, overwhelming heat, The Yiga Clan….before her was one of those “avoid at all costs” things.

The giant maw of The Molduga, teeth stained with fresh blood and the shredded remains of a Sand-Seal harness, lay only a few feet away from Buliara. It's bloodshot eyes flicked over to her and icy terror washed all over her. Something in her told her not to move. Where was Teake? She didn't know. Didn't dare move to see.

A keening noise pierced the air as The Molduga raised its head, flipped its body over, and dived back into the sand. A mound protruded from the ground told Buliara where it's head was and it rapidly began to move away from her. But even as it disappeared, Buliara couldn't bring herself to feel safe.

“Teake,” She rasped. It hurt to speak. “Teake!”

She'd heard her sister, knew she was alive. Hoped she was alive. Forcing herself to be louder, Buliara cried one more time, “TEAKE!”

“I'm here!” Teake's voice sounded towards her right and the crunching of sand followed soon after. Whatever strength Buliara had left seeped out of her and she fell back down to the ground, hot sand pressing into the side of her face. Teake came running towards her, sinking to her knees and gingerly touching Buliara’s cheek. Teake's headscarf was gone, snatched by The Molduga, and a slash of red bled on her forehead. Her brow was furrowed and worried eyes searched Buliara.

“I'm sorry, ‘Ara,” Teake whispered. “I'm so sorry.”

“S’not your fault,” Buliara said. “Accidents happen.”

“I led us straight to The Molduga!” Teake hissed. “Because I couldn't listen to Shabonne - I was too excited - and I couldn't control my Sand-Seal. ‘Ara, I got Kohm’s oldest cow eaten by The Molduga and my Sand-Seal swam off. This is not an accident, it's a disaster. Not even Barta is this much of a screw up.”

At the mention of her disaster-prone classmate, Buliara let out a breathy laugh. The pain in her chest had only doubled and her position on the ground wasn't helping. They were still in Molduga territory and if they stayed for too long…

Black spots began to dance in front of Buliara’s eyes and she blinked slowly, fighting off a wave of exhaustion. Teake noticed and shook her roughly.

“Don't sleep, Buliara! Stay awake. Please, stay awake.” Buliara had never heard panic in Teake's voice, not even when she broke her wrist. The heaviness persisted and Buliara couldn't - wouldn't - find the strength in her to fight it.

“I see Shabonne! Buliara! Buliara, wake up!”

Indeed, Buliara could hear the sound of Sand-Seals rapidly approaching, complete with Shabonne's shaky and worried voice calling out. “Buliara! Teake!”

“Shabonne!” Teake answered. “We’re here! Buliara, don't you dare die on me.”

But Buliara was already slipping, eyes falling shut as she finally lost consciousness. She didn't register Teake shaking her like a madwoman, nor did she register Shabonne and the Chief Of Military Rima halting their Sand-Seals and rushing towards her. The last thing she heard was Rima’s spiteful “Gerudo these days” before everything truly went dark.

  
Buliara woke up five days later in the physician’s clinic with a concussion, five cracked ribs, and a broken spirit.


	2. Fifteen Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Calamity Ganon's defeat, Riju and Buliara find themselves facing a new enemy: the vengeful Yiga Clan.

There was nothing quite like waking up from a dream about the time you almost died.

She woke up with a start, a dull pain throbbing beneath her sternum and a sheen of sweat glistening off her forehead. For a moment, she didn't know where she was.

“ _What do you mean special training!?_ All of our spears are broken, Babi, or did you forget!?”

Ah. Soldier's Barracks. Buliara would recognize the early morning spiel against her soldier Babi anywhere. She let out a huff of laughter as more voices joined in on the complaining, complete with Captain Teake barking at the soldiers to get back to work (“Do you speak Lizalfos!? Our spears are broken, Captain!”)

After a few more moments spent listening to her soldiers bickering like children, Buliara swung her legs around the edge of the bed and pushed herself up onto her feet. She brought her arms up high above her head in a stretch, catching stray strands of fire-red hair on the way. She wore a simple tunic and loose pants to bed, enough to keep her warm when the night chill settled in and enough to keep her cool when the morning sun came to bake Gerudo Town. Finishing her stretches, Buliara yawned once before settling into her morning routine.

The advantages of being captain of the guard underneath Chief Makeela Riju were endless. It was those advantages that made Buliara love her job. She was allowed to sleep in as long as she wanted so long as Captain Teake had the soldiers doing laps at dawn. Riju slept long enough to allow Buliara to always be the first face the young girl always saw when she woke (unless someone snuck Patricia into the room again. That had been happening a lot recently.)

There was time for a quick shower, the warm (but not too warm) water unknotting the cords of muscles in body, wetting down her hair, and relaxing her before the stress of her job had her as tight as a lady-in-waiting’s ponytail. As she bathed, the sound of soldiers stomping into the barracks suddenly began to fill the room, along with even more complaining. Their ranks had swelled in the past month or so and the newer, younger Gerudo soldiers were fond of their complaints and less fond of older soldiers like Babi, who was prone to pushing soldiers to their limits in the name of the Gerudo people and pride.

As she turned the knob sideways, turning off the water, Buliara took a moment to listen to her soliders. She counted it as another important piece to her job. Just because she outranked them all in both position and skill did not necessarily mean she didn't have to listen to them. Like Riju, it was her job to make sure her people were happy and if something other than Babi’s ludicrous teaching methods were making them unhappy then it was Buliara’s job to fix it. She loved that part of her job too. She grabbed a towel, burying her face in it but keeping her ears free, catching the first few snatches of morning conversation.

“That Babi, she's a crazy one.” This was Liana, one of the newbies who was also the youngest of them all at twenty years. She used to throw temper-tantrums when Teake made them do laps around the desert. “Don't know where she gets these ideas of her’s but they're awful.”

“They are but we have to do them,” Lukan intoned. She and Liana were sisters but were separated by their different mothers and a three-year age gap. “You know why. The desert is swarming with Yiga.”

It had only started happening a few months ago. Late one night, a man claiming that he'd defected from the Yiga had appeared at the southeast entrance of Gerudo Town, begging, no, _demanding_ to speak with Chief Riju. The Thunder Helm had only just been recovered and every guard had been on high alert. The man, whose name was Shane, had almost lost his life trying to do something good. It wasn't safe to let him inside, tensions were too high to guarantee his safe exit, but Buliara has accompanied Riju to the lookout post where Shane and Riju spoke. He had only words of warning: “The Yiga are coming. Master Kohga is dead.” He told them that he himself would be dead in less than a month for his treachery but it had been worth it.

“You have children here,” Shane had said. Buliara remembered how he'd sounded weary, his limbs dragged down with exhaustion. His eyes had contained no light in them. If the Yiga didn't catch him for being a traitor then Shane’s own blade would. “I can't let them die.”

“I'm hardly more than a child myself,” Riju had whispered. Riju had only just turned fourteen. “What should we do?”

“Anything and everything you can,” Shane had said. “They won't stop, not until the Hero is dead and the person who sent him is too.”

“Lady Riju, he means you,” Buliara had said, hand moving instinctively for her sheathed blade. “We should increase the amount of sentries around the palace-”

“No!” Riju had exclaimed. “We need more guards around the city, never mind me.”

“Never mind you? You are our Chief, we are always to mind you!” Buliara had snapped. _My cousin as well as one of Lady Urbosa’s_ _living_ _descendants_ _too_. “You heard what he said, the Yiga are after who ever sent the Hero. That means you.”

“That means all of us, Buliara,” Riju had said. She had sounded much older, too wise at such a young age. “I won't hide behind five hundred guards while my people become the target. You know this. You know what's at stake.”

She had known. The Gerudo people were in danger, not just Riju. Buliara was no fool, she was well aware of the fact that there had likely been many Yiga spies within Gerudo Town’s walls when she suggested the Hero take upon the task that helped them retrieve the Thunder Helm. Riju was a target, Buliara was a target, Ashai was a target...everyone Buliara knew and loved was a target now. Damn whatever Goddess looked over the Gerudo people - Buliara was agnostic and prayed to no one.

Buliara had opened her eyes (she closed them when she thought) and nodded at Shane, acknowledging and thanking him. “Then we up the number of our guards. Trading will have to become severely regulated and we may lose business but our people will be safe.”

“We can work everything out in the stateroom,” Riju had said. To Shane, she said, “Thank you. If we hadn't been warned…”

“You'd all be dead,” Shane had said flatly. “I need to leave. They'll know about my betrayal soon enough and I need to buy you all time.”

They gave him a Sand-Seal and packed him a travel pack, receiving a weak thanks in return. Shane was no fool, he knew he was dead. But Buliara noted the way he rode at top speed, as if a flare of hope in him still burned, and he disappeared beyond the dunes. But it was the last time she'd seen Shane and she had no idea if the poor man was alive or dead.

His warning had been immensely helpful. They'd only had a few days to prepare before the first attack in Master Kohga’s name suddenly broke out in the middle of the market. A trader woman dressed in all black had revealed her identity as a Yiga Clan member when she jumped on an unarmed Gerudo woman and cut her throat, screaming about the fall of the Gerudo people. Babi had been the nearest soldier and the trader imposter had been impaled on the old soldier’s sharpest spear without a second thought but that hadn't erased the fact that blood had been spilled. A war was beginning and Buliara had no idea how it would end. Would they need the Hero again?

Would the Yiga Clan slaughter them all?

Buliara toweled the rest of herself off and dressed, pulling her hair back into a disciplined bun and donning the armor of the Chief of Military. There was much of the golden armor to attach but by the time the last strap was pulled, Buliara was covered shoulder to toe in impenetrable armor, nevermind the surcoat she wore over it to keep the sun off the metal. Few people realized that desert life involves a lot of layers. Sunburned skin was something the Gerudo people and its tourists tried to avoid, though there were always the dozens of Hylians they received each year who were conned into buying and wearing the “festive” outfit marketed as the “Gerudo Set”.

Fully dressed, she stepped out of the showers and the chatter of the Gerudo soldiers hanging out in the barracks suddenly stopped. Out of respect or fear, each soldier acknowledged her presence with a nod or a salute and Buliara couldn't help but feel a small amount of pleasure for it. She'd worked hard to get where she was and even though she was no stranger to humility, she couldn't help but relish in it a little.

“At ease,” She murmured. “How goes training?”

She was met with multiple answers at once, all positive. No one would dare complain to Buliara, it was Teake who always assumed the role as the complaint box. The thought made her lips twitch upwards.

“It always good, Chief,” Liana chirped. “Except for Babi.”

Immediately, the rest of the soldiers hushed and cussed at her, and it was an effort not to laugh. “Babi? What's wrong with her?”

“Nothing! She's great!”

“Her dedication is inspiring.”

“She works us too hard and she's old-fashioned,” Liana said bluntly. “Now all of our spears are broken.”

Her answer was met with even more shushing but Buliara raised an open palm, silencing everyone. “Have your spears delivered to my smithy. They'll be fixed soon enough and this time they won't break. Now, I don't want to know why all of you are all sitting here chatting like there's nothing else you can be doing but I don't want to see it again. Get out there, I'm sure Captain Teake and Babi can make you all useful.”

It was a direct order from Buliara and she needn't slam her sword down on the floor like she so often did in the throne room. The soldiers met her command with “yes ma’ams” and quickly dispersed. Buliara followed them out but her destination was not the training grounds with Teake and Babi but rather the palace, where the young Chief would still (hopefully) be sleeping.

The barracks emptied directly into the palace and it was only a matter of climbing up sandy-colored stairs before blasts of air conditioning cooled her as she entered. The guards by the entrance gave her polite nods, never breaking their form unless they were ordered to. Not even chatty Katta said anything to Buliara as she raised her fist and gave the Chief’s door a quick, soft knock before letting herself in.

Though elegant, Chief Riju’s room was still a teenager’s room. It was messy in some places, most notably the desk, and Patricia snuffled in the corner, shuffling closer to Buliara. Buliara paused and gave the Sand-Seal a quick pat on the head. “Who let you in here?” She murmured as the Sand-Seal let out a series of happy-sounding barks. She gave Patricia one last pat, reminded herself to have a semi-stern talk with the guards about letting the Sand-Seal in the Chief’s bedroom, and moved closer to the giant bed where her Chief slept.

Chief Riju, for all the power she commanded across the desert, was positively adorable when she slept. Curled up under thick blankets and squeezing a Sand-Seal plushie close to her body as she slept, Riju was the epitome of innocence. She was just a girl, something Buliara constantly had to remind herself of, and the death of Chief Alula had been so sudden…

Buliara shook Riju’s shoulder gently, receiving a swat on the arm for her troubles. She huffed a laugh, no, a _giggle_ , and cooed, “Riju, it's time to wake up.”

“No it's not,” Riju answered with a voice thick with sleep. “I decide when I wake up.”

“If I let you do that, we'd never get anything done,” Buliara answered. “So, wake up!”

Riju rolled over instead, the Sand-Seal plushie squeaking in protest. Buliara put a hand on her hip, looked up at the ceiling as if asking “ _why is she like this?_ ”, and then turned her attention back to the young Chief.

“I didn't want to have to do this…,” Buliara murmured. She grabbed the corner of the covers and yanked them back with all of her strength, effectively ripping away the bed’s covering and rolling Riju directly onto the floor with a loud thump. Patricia barked at the noise.

“Wha- Buliara!” Riju shouted. “What was that for? I was up!”

“No you weren't,” Buliara said. “Good morning, little Chief.”

From behind the bed, Buliara received an obscene gesture from the Chief of Gerudo Town and she rolled her eyes. _Childish_. “Breakfast will be ready soon so if you'd like to eat before working on the daily affairs then I suggest you get moving now, Riju.”

Riju mumbled something that sounded less than polite but Buliara was already heading out. Katta had momentarily broken her silent guard facade, a soft smirk pulling the corners of her lips up. “Is she awake?”

“Hardly,” Buliara answered. “But I think it's interesting how Patricia was in there. I wonder, how does a Sand-Seal come to be in our Chief’s bedroom.”

Katta’s face turned blank. “I haven't the faintest idea, ma'am. How strange.”

“Yes, how strange. I should hope it doesn't happen again...I'd hate for a certain someone to be assigned cleaning the stables during her weekend break.”

Katta’s eyebrow twitched but she said nothing. The message was clear enough. With a sniff, Buliara left the soldier and Riju behind in favor for getting ready for breakfast. There was nothing quite like a palace breakfast and it was yet another part of Buliara’s job that she relished.

The dining room was bland, the large oak table taking up much of the space and the windows giving her a clear view of Gerudo Town below. The marketplace was still beginning to stir and shopkeepers were setting up but she knew that in the next hour or so, it would be as busy as it always would. Buliara took her normal seat by the large, gilded seat of the Chief and a short, Gerudo woman from the kitchen quickly walked towards her and placed a bowl of still-steaming Shakshouka in front of her with a polite ‘ _Sav’otta_ , Buliara’. Buliara wasted no time in shoveling food in her mouth; she was well into her meal by the time Riju joined her. The young Chief stretched and yawned as she came to take her seat and the same Gerudo woman rushed out to deliver Riju’s breakfast too, her greeting changed to a formal curtsy and blessing. Riju’s breakfast came with a side of paperwork, a stack of important documents that were all marked ‘URGENT’. Only when the Gerudo woman had disappeared back in the kitchen did the Chief groan.

“I don't want this,” Riju said, lifting the first paper off the stack and letting it fall again. “At all.”

“My sympathies, Riju,” Buliara said. “So very sorry for your issues.”

“Laying it on thick with the sarcasm this morning aren't we, cousin?” Riju said, poking Buliara in the bicep. “I know it has to be done, I just...would rather not. What do you think today's report will be? The dwindling amount of hydromelons? The request for a new shop to open in Kara Kara Bazaar? More complaints about Hylians?”

Riju took the first page down and scanned the text, face suddenly turning white. Buliara raised an eyebrow, noticing the sudden change in mood. When Riju didn't speak, Buliara gently took the paper from Riju’s fingers and read it herself.

“Ah. That's not good.”

Yiga. Kara Kara Bazaar. Five dead. Three kidnapped.

“Yeah,” Riju said. “That's not good.”

Sometimes, Buliara hated her job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buliara - Chief Of Military in Gerudo Town and Riju's older cousin, descended from Urbosa through Neveah, Urbosa's wife. She was a blacksmith before she became a soldier and her sister is Captain Teake. After Chief Alula's death, she became the legal guardian of Makeela Riju. 
> 
> Chief Makeela Riju - Current primary Chief Of Gerudo Town, only fourteen years old. In the wake of Chief Alula's death, Riju's reign has been plagued with bandits and the lack of faith her people have for her. However, Riju is strong-spirited and wise beyond her years, aspiring to be as good as a leader as Lady Urbosa once was. 
> 
> Captain Teake - Captain of the Guard in Gerudo Town and Buliara's younger, spunkier sister. She is as dedicated to her job as Buliara is and adores her younger cousin Riju. Like her sister, she is a descendent of Urbosa through their mother Muava and Urbosa's wife Neveah though Teake takes more pride in her own accomplishments than her bloodline. 
> 
> Chador - An article of clothing worn by Gerudo people. It is a full-body open cloak held closed by the hands. 
> 
> Shakshouka - A dish of poached eggs in a sauce of tomatoes, chili peppers, and onions. This is Chief Riju's favorite meal and is eaten every morning by her and Buliara. In a mildly disturbing way, the eggs are imported from a Rito tribe.


	3. Kara Kara Bazaar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buliara and Riju investigate the murders and kidnappings at Kara Kara Bazaar.

On a good day, Buliara was normally at the side of the throne, whispering advice to Chief Riju as they dealt with daily affairs. 

 

 Instead, Buliara found herself racing through Gerudo Desert with a Sand-Seal, the sun beating down on her and a grim expression marring her usually stoic features. The young Chief Of Gerudo Town raced alongside her, shooting over dunes and obstacles with alarming speed. When Riju was upset, she tended to be reckless. Buliara would never forget the day Riju left and surfed too close to Vah Naboris. To think that the young girl’s life had almost been lost in such a stupid way…

 

 Luckily, their location was nowhere near a possessed piece of Sheikah machinery that shot deadly lightning everywhere. Kara Kara Bazaar or as the Hylians called it, “The Desert Oasis”, was relatively peaceful. Trouble rarely ever kicked up and it was frequented by traveling Hylians and the occasional Rito on their way to Gerudo Town. In her youth, Buliara could only count visiting the Bazaar a few times. Unlike Teake, she didn’t have a woman to lure her back again and again. In fact, said woman was part of her agenda for the day. 

 

 After reading the report, Riju decided to check out the site for herself, question the merchants, and hopefully unearth a lead. Since there was no doubt that the Yiga were involved with the murder of the merchant Maike and the traveling caravan of four traders, the investigation had proceeded without haste. 

 

 But then there was the question of the kidnapping. As far as they knew, the Yiga liked their enemies dead. They’d taken Emri, a crotchety Gerudo elder, Shailu, a merchant who sold arrows, and Nobiro, a Hylian opportunist. The report had been filled out and sent by Ripp, one of the Gerudo Guard’s senior soldiers. 

 

 “We’re almost there!” Riju suddenly called out. Patricia barked in answer and put on another burst of speed. Buliara struggled to match it. For all her pampering, Patricia was no joke when let loose in the sands. Riju had ridden her when she joined the Hero on their quest to take down Vah Naboris, which said something about the frightening resilience of a Sand-Seal and the admirable bravery of a girl who had only been thirteen at the time. 

 

 They approached the shimmering, clear waters of Kara Kara Bazaar before high noon. The Bazaar didn’t look as friendly as it normally did. There were no travelers hanging around. The little tents and shops were closed off. Ever present, Ripp stood in the shade of a palm tree, sipping from a canteen but, besides her, Kara Kara Bazaar was empty. 

 

 It was never empty. 

 

 Buliara and Riju came to a stop a few yards in front of Ripp who returned her canteen to her hip before jogging up to them. She bowed to Riju and then saluted to Buliara before speaking. 

 

 “This is bad, ma’am,” Ripp addressed them both. “There’s no business over here. All the merchants have gone down to the village and I haven’t seen a single traveler since the attack.”

 

 “Not a single one?” Riju echoed. 

 

 “Yes ma’am. Word traveled fast. Travelers are more willing to risk their lives trying to make the travel to Gerudo Town without a rest rather than face the possibility of getting jumped by the Yiga,” Ripp sighed. “Told the merchants and villagers you’d be here questioning and they all agreed to stick around but they’ve hardly poked their noses out their homes. They’re grieving. Kara Kara Bazaar is a community, a big trading family for them all and they’ve just lost eight of their people.”

 

 “I understand. Anything else, Ripp?” Riju asked. She blinked hard, clearly fighting off a wave of sorrow. 

 

 “No ma’am,” Ripp sighed. 

 

 “Good, because I have some questions for you, Ripp,” Chief Riju said. It didn’t matter that Buliara and Ripp dwarfed the young Chief - Riju spoke like a Chief seasoned with age and experience and her hard stare betrayed nothing. “Where were you during the attack?”

 

 “Right here, ma’am,” Ripp said. “I remember everything.”

 

 “Buliara, head down to Kara Kara Village. You can start questioning down there,” Riju ordered. “Your report explained a lot, Ripp, but not enough. If we’re going to get to the bottom of this...I need to know everything.”

 

 “I understand, ma’am.”

 

 Buliara left then. She trusted Ripp like she trusted all of her soldiers, trusting the old soldier to keep Riju safe until she returned. As far as Buliara knew, it had been a long time since a Gerudo soldier betrayed Gerudo Town.  

 

 Kara Kara Village, like it’s oasis counterpart, was small and comfortable, a little lake resting in between the oval of homely houses. Each house was made up of sandstone and though the Kara Kara Village tended to look a little plain from the outside, Buliara knew that the inside of each house had splendid interiors matching its inhabitants’ personality.  She knew because she’d visited them before. Her mother, Muava, had been born in Kara Kara Village and her sister’s wife, Vilia, lived here as well. It was the latter whom Buliara was going to visit first. 

 

 Vilia’s home had an elegant, spiraling design of a Molduga painted on the door, her own personal way of saying “fuck off” to all who came to harass her. In religions that respected The Molduga in a spiritual way, painting a Molduga on one’s door warded off evil. Buliara traced the spiral that made up The Molduga’s tail before giving the door a few short knocks. 

 

 When the door abruptly swung open, instead of Vilia’s normal, sweet greeting, Buliara got an earful of an annoyed spiel clearly intended for some other poor fool. 

 

 “For the last time! I do not sell the ‘Gerudo Set’! I sell tunics, sirwals, shawls, and headscarves and if you’d like to die in the desert wearing that  _ hideous _ disgrace of an outfit then, by all means, drop dead!” 

 

Vilia was a short, stout woman known for her excellent style and ability with a roll of fabric. She’d tailored dozens of Chief Riju’s formal dresses and suits. After years of reviving Hylians who’d collapsed at the Bazaar because of their lack of proper dressing, Vilia had opened shop and sold proper desert clothing. She’d grown rich on her wares but she’d never made the move to Gerudo Town or any other Gerudo City, preferring her humble abode by the oasis. 

 But something had her riled up, something other than the recent Yiga attack. Dressed in a white abaya with a lavender khimar, Vilia’s face was dark and pinched and lacked any of the friendliness she often showed her customers. However, Buliara was not the source of Vilia’s frustration and as recognition dawned on the shorter woman’s face, Vilia realized it too. 

 

 “Oh, Buli! I’m so sorry!” All that anger made way for fluster, Vilia backpedaling quicker than a Sand-Seal and giving Buliara an apologetic look. 

 

 “Good morning, Vilia,” Buliara said, leaning on the doorframe. “Apology accepted.”

 

 “I thought you were that silly boy! Can’t remember his name for the life of me. Billie? Jillie? And his friend! Dora, Bora something. They’ve been hitting up my shop every morning like their lives depended on it but all they have for me is nonsense. Not even a single rupee in their pockets.”

 

 “Never heard of them.”

 

 “Right? It’s like they’ve appeared out of nowhere! I tried telling Teake about it but she’s been so busy these days I can barely worm a sentence out of her. Gods, maybe I should move to Gerudo Town. There were days when she couldn’t wait to ride out to see me and now that we’re married, well, distance makes the heart grow fonder, doesn’t it?”

 

 “I wouldn’t know.” Buliara hadn’t a lover, wife, or husband to worry about and, so far, she was glad of it. “Vilia, we need to talk.”

 

 “I knew you’d say that,” Vilia sniffed. “The one time I see you and you’re here to talk business. Come inside, Buli. I’ll make us some tea.”

 

 Buliara could always rely on Vilia’s cooperativeness and endless supply of tea. She rarely saw her sister-in-law these days and the problems that were now afoot told her that she would see Vilia even less, if that was even possible. There were days when Buliara couldn’t even get a word in with her own sister and it had been almost a month since she’d last visited Muava, her mother. The last time she’d spoken with Ashai had been months ago when her younger cousin had asked Buliara if she was interested in relationship or cooking classes (she wasn’t.) Riju was the only family member Buliara was in constant touch with but before Buliara had joined the military, Makeela Riju had only been the Chief’s daughter, not Buliara’s little cousin. 

 

  The inside of Vilia’s house was small but was absolutely filled with the seamstress’s brilliance. The den area’s floor was covered with a great rug depicting Hyrule back in its prime - complete with carefully designed hills, mountains, and Hyrule Castle smack dab in the middle. The wall was covered in colorful tapestries and drying squares of fabric, each dyed a beautiful shade of pink. Low sofas arranged so that they surrounded the rug were particularly inviting to Buliara and she found herself sinking into the one closest to the door. Vilia continued walking, rounding a sharp corner into what was presumably the kitchen. Buliara head cups rattling, a cabinet opening, the strike of a match, and then the sound of a kettle being put on a fire. Buliara stared at her hands as the seconds ticked on bye, hardly noticing Vilia addressing her from the kitchen. 

 

 “Have you eaten today?” Vilia called. 

 

 “Riju and I ate breakfast earlier,” Buliara answered.  _ Much earlier.  _

 

 “Makeela? She is here?” Vilia’s voice took on a note of excitement. Like most of the Gerudo people, Vilia adored the young Chief. “Breakfast was too long ago, Buliara. At least let me make you something to eat.”

 

 “I’m fine,” Buliara declined the offer soundly. “However, I do not speak for Riju…”

 

 “I see what you’re doing, Buli.” Vilia’s head peeked around the corner. “You’re a mom.”

 

 “I am her legal guardian.”

 

 “Exactly. Let’s see what I can whip up in here...tea’s ready.” A sharp kettle’s whistle shot through Vilia’s statement and she whirled back around the corner to tend to it. Buliara smelled thyme and stifled a sigh. Vilia had thousands of tea types in her cabinets but the one she chose just so happened to be her absentee wife’s favorite. 

 

 Vilia came around the corner with a tray consisting of the kettle, two cups, and honey on the side. She sat next to Buliara, placing the tray on the small, round table in front of them, and poured hot water into their respective cups. Buliara watched the steam, waiting for Vilia to undoubtedly bring up Teake. 

 

 “How’s Gerudo Town? Have you had any trouble recently?” Vilia asked, moving on to spooning honey into her and Buliara’s tea. 

 

 “Nothing we can’t handle,” Buliara said. “The occasional market fight, some disturbances of the peace, some unruly visitors.” She put emphasis on the last bit. 

 

 “Right. And the Guard? I’ve heard a new batch of young ones have enlisted.”

 

 “Uh-huh. Babi has quite the reputation among them,” Buliara said. “But I’m not here to talk about the Guard. We’ve gotten some disturbing reports from Ripp outside and Makeela and I are here to investigate.” Buliara reached for her cup only to have Vilia’s hand clamp down on it first. Manicured fingers clicked against the side. 

 

 “What’s keeping Teake from visiting me?” Vilia interrupted, fixing Buliara with a piercing stare. Buliara held that stare for a second or two before dropping it.  “Tell me the truth, Buli. You’re Chief of Military and her sister and if anything,  _ anything _ , is going on, you’d know.”

 “You’re right. I’m Chief of Military, not a marriage counselor,” Buliara intoned. Vilia flinched. 

 

 “I wasn’t asking you to be anything you aren’t,” Vilia shot back. “But I’m worried. You know what happened here! I’ve heard the rumors. In all the time we haven’t seen each other, Teake has sent me one letter and it’s about a murder in the marketplace. Judging by your face, that was quite a while ago.”

 

 Vilia retracted her hand from the cup, placing it back onto her knee. “Don’t fault me for worrying.”

 

 “I’m not faulting anyone,” Buliara sighed, lifting the cup to her lips. A migraine was beginning to make itself known, pounding dully at her temple. “But I’m as clueless as you are. It’s been a long time since I was Buliara Ali the scholar and Teake was the troublemaker.”

 

 “You used to be so close,” Vilia said. “I remember that.”

 

 A silence fell between them. Sensing an opening, Buliara opened her mouth to start questioning Vilia but, evidently, the seamstress wasn’t done. 

 

 “Do you still weld?” 

 

 “If you’re asking if my smithy is still up and running then the answer is yes,” Buliara answered. “I’ll never close it.”

 

 “Even when you’re old?”

 

 “Even so,” Buliara said. “But Vilia, you’ve got to stop stalling. Don’t deny it, I’ve known you as long as you think you’ve known me.”

 

 Vilia pursed her lips and then gave Buliara a short, sharp nod. “Let’s get on with it.”

 

 “Then tell me what you know. Everything.”

 

The sun was beginning it’s descent by the time Buliara left Vilia’s house, and she wasted no time in questioning the other villagers and declining cup after cup of tea. Some houses even declined her request to question, stating that Riju had been in their earlier with lots of questions with answers they didn’t have. 

 

  Buliara made her way back to the desolate marketplace, pleased to see Riju and Ripp sitting on the rocks by the oasis. The young Chief’s brow was furrowed in deep thought while Ripp looked on. 

 

 “I’ve never seen it this empty,” Ripp murmured as Buliara approached. “If there was anything I could count on in life, I could always count on the Bazaar being as lively and as opening as always.”

 

 “I’ve finished questioning everyone,” Buliara told her, shaking her head. “It’s been almost the same story in every house. Vilia told me a lot.”

 

 “Vilia?” Riju suddenly said. “Vilia Madonna? The one who tailors my suits and dresses?”

 

 “Vilia Madonna-Ali,” Buliara corrected. “My sister-in-law.”

 

 “I didn’t even know she was married,” Riju said. Buliara winced. “What did she have to say?”

 

 “A caravan of travelers approached the Bazaar around high noon,” Buliara said. “The leader claimed that they had a man in danger of dehydration and that he needed a tent and some water. When asked, he said that his name was Kale and he was journeying to the Gerudo Highlands.”

 

 “Let me guess, they’re the ones that ended up attacking.”

 

 “No. They were innocent. The man was actually dehydrated and they took care of him. Kale and his men decided to stay the night and resume travel in the morning.”

 

 “So what does that have to do with the attack?”

 

 “I’m getting there. Vilia told me that Kale had traveled all the way from the ruins of Hyrule and when she asked him why, he got nervous. After a cup of tea, he was spilled everything to her: Hyrule was crawling with the Yiga Clan. Apparently, after our Hero killed their master, they’ve been rampaging everywhere. Even the Zora Domain is dealing with their fair share of trouble. But they’re attacking in the name of Master Kohga and their new Mistress, Mistress Aaya.”

 

 “Mistress Aaya?”

 

 “Kohga’s sister -- I believe the title of ‘Master’ is hereditary,” Buliara said. “Mistress Aaya has a hit list with over a hundred names on it. No wonder why we haven’t seen the Hero in a while.”

 

 “Well, he can’t be dead,” Riju sighed, shaking her head. “That thing surrounding Hyrule’s castle is gone.”

 

 “Yes, he’s avenged his friends and his country. Lady Urbosa’s spirit rests in peace now,” Buliara said. “But no one’s heard from him since and, in his wake, he’s left an entire clan of homicidal assassins hellbent on our ruin. They want us dead because we sent him into their hideout and he killed Master Kohga. They’re attacking Hyrulians in an attempt to draw him out, most likely, or because they’re just that bloodthirsty. I don’t know what troubles they have with the Zora Domain but Kale told Vilia that Mistress Aaya is hankering for King Dorephan’s head.”

 

 “What happened afterwards?”

 

 “The plan was to send word to us as the information would have been useful. Kale and his caravan left in the morning, as promised, and life went on. But, in the afternoon, another caravan showed up and asked if Kale’s caravan had passed through.”

 

 “They got their answer. They were Yiga Clan members in disguise,” Riju murmured. “But why were they after Kale’s men?”

 

 “That, I don’t know,” Buliara said. “Like Shane, Kale might’ve been part of the Yiga Clan once. It would explain why they’re heading towards the Gerudo Highlands.”

 

 “Right; Queen Diana’s Kingdom is well-defended. It would have been easy for Kale and his men to start a new life there,” Riju concluded. “But why kill our people? Why kidnap them?”

 

 “I don’t know,” Buliara said. “But that’s something we need to find out. This is war, Riju. If we’re not careful, we’ll fall.”

 

 “Do you think we need the Hero, Captain?” Ripp spoke up. 

 

 “No,” Buliara said. “We don’t know where he is, if he’s even still alive. The Zora Domain is suffering too and there’s no Hyrule to ally ourselves with anymore. We’re alone in this.”

 

 For a moment, Riju was silent, staring down at the ground. When the silence persisted, Buliara took a step towards her. 

 

 “With that kind of thinking, we will be alone.” Riju finally said, lifting her head to stare defiantly at Buliara. She crossed her arms and made her way back to Patricia. After a moment, Buliara nodded to Ripp, excusing her, and followed the young Chief. “But we don’t have to be.”

 

 “What do you mean?” Buliara asked as Riju hopped onto her shield and gathered the reins. 

 

 “You don’t really believe that the Hero is dead, right? The last time he was here, he swore up and down that he was going to rescue the Princess and Hyrule. Now, Calamity Ganon’s gone, the Divine Beasts are sated, and this world has begun a new chapter,” Riju’s eyes sparkled, and she took a deep breath. “Buliara, we’ve got a new mission.”

 

 “Riju...don’t tell me-”

 

 “We’re going to find Princess Zelda,” Riju interrupted. “If there’s anyone who can help us, then it’s her and her Hero.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic will now update every Friday starting 12/15/17!
> 
> Vilia is a trans-woman in my fic and is of Gerudo and Hylian heritage. Look forward to more on her and the rest of the Gerudo people as their issues with the Yiga Clan grow worse and worse...
> 
> The transition to the Hero and the Princess’s part of the story will happen after Chapter Five!


	4. Noble Pursuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buliara eats risotto and makes a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an update for this story on 1/13! My update schedule has been moved from every Friday to every Saturday. Thank you for reading!

She couldn’t sleep.

Long after the last soldier had fallen asleep in the Soldiers Barracks, Buliara found herself stuck between a state of unconsciousness and constant rolling around on her cot. She would’ve kicked away her covers long ago had it not been so cold. Instead she stared at the wall to her far left, counting the bricks that made it up in a futile effort to bore herself to sleep.

After too many hours of this, Buliara gave up on sleep, kicked off the covers, and slipped out of bed. Tiptoeing past the other cots in the room, Buliara made her way to the chest where she kept her belongings and unlocked it with a little click. Grabbing some clothes, she dressed fast and quietly, careful not to disturb the other soldiers catching up on much needed rest, and left the Soldier’s Barracks just as noiselessly.

Outside, the air was cold and Buliara’s breath came out in little clouds. She’d been smart enough to pull on a cloak over her clothing and she pulled it tighter against her as she made her way out of the Barracks. A few guards saw her, recognized her, and gave her respectful nods but did nothing else to break their form. She left the palace grounds without a single disturbance, setting on course towards the marketplace.

As she walked, she thought about what was causing her insomnia. To put it in its simplest and lightest forms, it was a decision. A very heavy one. Prompted by the recent, Yiga Clan related events, Buliara was faced with the decision to stay by Lady Riju’s side during this crisis and help the young Chief make the right decisions to destroy this threat while simultaneously fulfilling her duty as Riju’s protector, OR return to the front lines and handle it head on. One decision wasn’t particularly better than the other and both of them had their pros and cons.

Both of them included sacrificing something valuable to Buliara. The former, a possible undetermined amount of lives. The latter, a vow she’d made to Chief Alula. No amount of thinking she subjected herself to came out with a clear solution and now it was interrupting her sleep. It didn’t help that the recent stress and strain of her job and her own personal feelings were beginning to weigh down on her heavily. There really wasn’t anyone Buliara could consult in other than Teake, who was clearly dealing with her own problems right now. Rima was also an option but Buliara wasn’t in the mood for the former Chief Of Military’s bitter commentary. Muava, her mother, might’ve been an option if Buliara actually knew where she was. Vilia was too far away to get to for just a night and Buliara didn’t exactly want to get wrapped in her marriage problems again. Buliara truly had limited options.

A walk would do her some good. It would at least clear her head. Maybe it would even reveal the answer she sought. So she kept walking, entering the marketplace.

Though the marketplace of Gerudo Town never truly slept, it was much quieter at night than it was during the day. The more familial zones of Gerudo Town were more active and the smell of cooking food from restaurants and homes was more prominent. A few merchants called out to Buliara as she passed.

“Evening Buliara! Need something?”

 

“It’s been a while, Buliara! Swing on by; I’ve got a special discount for you!”

 

“How about a little something for Riju? I’ve got a Sand-Seal plushie I know she’d just adore!”

 

She waved each offer off, even the tempting last one, and continued onwards. She halted once when a gaggle of Gerudo children crossed her path, each one of them stopping to gape at her before quickly hurrying on when a Gerudo woman called out for them. The sight lifted some of the weight off her heart; the children were still happy. Things were bad when one couldn’t see and hear the children playing in the streets. As soon as each child had disappeared into one of the neighborhoods of Gerudo Town, Buliara resumed her walking.

She didn’t exactly know where she was going, trusting her feet to lead her somewhere familiar. She found herself walking north, delving deep into Gerudo Town until she stopped in front of a familiar, well-lit building. The chatter from inside was loud and joyous, summoning up warm feelings and memories the longer she stood outside and stared. A few Gerudo were exiting the building now, laughing loudly and stumbling down the stairs. At the sight, a small smile playing on her lips, Buliara ascended up the stairs two at a time and entered.

The Noble Canteen was where Buliara used to spend her younger days, back when her smithy was more active. Nestled cozily between the other sandstone buildings of Gerudo Town, the bar was home to a number of unique characters and its famous, near titular drink, the Noble Pursuit. No one paid her any mind as she entered, everyone too focused on their own conversations and concerns or too drunk to recognize her. However, this was not the case of Furosa, the bar’s elderly and spunky owner. Recognizing Buliara immediately, the old woman stuck two fingers between her lips and whistled sharply. A few patrons jumped at the noise and turned around but quickly lost interest when Buliara turned to Furosa, obscuring her face from any curious gazes.

“Ali! _Vasaaq_ …,” Furosa purred. She was a dark-skinned Gerudo woman with her red hair piled high on top of her head. She wore a fuchsia kaftan, it’s neckline embroidered with elegant, royal blue designs and her arms were all but covered in deep gold bangles that clinked together with her every movement. “It’s been so long since you’ve visited me. The palace got you working?”

“Dreadfully so,” Buliara said, pulling up a seat at the bar. A drunk Gerudo woman lay half sprawled on the bar and mumbled incoherently. Buliara eyed her for a minute, Furosa following her gaze and sighing.

“Ah, yes. That’s Pokki. She’s a fine customer….and an absolute drunkard. She’s normally more responsible with her drinking but I’m afraid she’s suffered a nasty breakup with her boyfriend,” Furosa explained, rolling her eyes. “ _Voe_. No good, I’ll tell you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Buliara replied. “Make sure Pokki gets home safely, okay?”

“Don’t worry about it, Chief. Pritana helps me close up every night and that includes helping the utterly wasted home,” Furosa said. “I’m nice like that. Anyway, you never visit me out of the blue. What’s the matter?”

“What? I can’t see my dear old _vaba_?”

Furosa wrinkled her nose. “I am no one’s _vaba_ , thank you very much! And no, you never visit me unless you want something. Like my advice. Or when you need to vent. So, what’s the matter? Is it Teake and Vilia? Disrupted trading routes? _Voe_ sneaking into town?”

Furosa placed her hands on the bar, fingers splayed out. “Or is it our recent problems with the Yiga?”

Her last question made Buliara flinch involuntarily and Furosa stepped back, nodding her head. “I see.”

 _Well, you wanted to vent…_ , Buliara’s mind reminded her. Furosa was trustworthy and she absolutely despised the rumor mill, always claiming that she was far too old to worry about what people think of her or what people think of others. She was also a bartender, used to listening to the vents of all who came to visit. With that in mind, Buliara relented and opened her mouth to speak.

“It’s concerning,” Buliara started. “With the murders at Kara Kara Bazaar, I feel—”

“Hold that thought,” Furosa interrupted. “Pritana! Plate a bit of that risotto from earlier, please.”

“Wait a minute, I’m not hungry, Furosa,” Buliara protested as a lithe Gerudo woman stood up from one of the tables and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Don’t care. You’re always so eager to call me _vaba_ , I might as well feed you,” Furosa said, waving her off. “Anyway, continue.”

Buliara shook her head, killed any further protests on her tongue, and continued, “I’ve been feeling a little incompetent, lately.”

“Honey, if I opened a dictionary, I’d find a picture of you next to the definition of competent and all of its synonyms.”

“For as long as I’ve been Chief Of Military, Gerudo Town hasn’t had a problem this big,” Buliara continued. “Even when Vah Naboris started to terrorize us, I still managed to keep it far away from Gerudo Town and the trade routes by sending out patrols composed of myself and other fast Sand-Seal riders for it to target. When a Rima retired, I swore to myself that I’d keep the peace she worked so hard to secure.”

“If you’ve managed to do that, then how come you call yourself incompetent?”

“Before Chief Alula died, she asked me to keep an eye on Lady Riju. She told me that my ‘relation’ to Lady Urbosa was shared with her family and that should make it all the more easier to connect with her daughter. It wasn’t until she was on her deathbed when I discovered that my relation was through marriage — Mom is descended from Urbosa’s wife, Neveah — but I’d already sworn to it and everyone was talking about my connection to Lady Urbosa. Teake started to correct people but it didn’t exactly have any effect. The expectations were daunting.”

“I can only imagine so. Keep talking.”

“I doubted myself for a long time after I succeeded Rima. To jump from Captain of the Guard to Chief Of Military like that...well, I was almost completely sure that it was because of the novelty of having Lady Urbosa’s living descendant filling out a position she once filled too,” Buliara sighed. “And then Riju started calling me ‘cousin’, even after I told her the truth. That girl. Riju started calling me her Champion too and it seemed like any free time I had from my job was filled with spending time with her. I didn’t mind it.”

“You became a mother figure to her, you know. She lost her mother at such a young age.”

“I know. I don’t have any children, and I probably won’t ever have any, but—”

“Oh, please. You’re only 31. You’ve got plenty of time.”

“—I never minded Riju. And then she went and did that foolish act of her’s. Running after Vah Naboris like she thought she was Lady Urbosa herself. I’m glad I got there in time...Thunder Helm or no, that force field wouldn’t have saved her from getting crushed underneath Vah Naboris or worse. She thought she was invincible.”

“But you were there. That’s what matters, right?” Buliara remembered waking up in the palace with the guards in a panic over the missing Chief. The empty pedestal the Thunder Helm sat upon had told her everything she needed to know. She’d found Riju tailing after Vah Naboris in no time but she would never forget the smell of heavy ozone and the pure electricity in the air that could have, and would have, killed.

“Yeah, well, I decided to stay by Riju’s side. The fact that she could’ve been killed never did sit with her,” Buliara said. “She was thirteen but naivety like that...it’s scary. She protested for the longest time but she got used to it. I think she eventually understood her rashness but some part of her still justified it. I pulled myself from the front lines to protect her...to fulfill Chief Alula’s last wish. It was selfish.”

“You were only doing what you thought was best.”

“What I thought was best ended up with the Yiga stealing the Thunder Helm. It wasn’t a clean theft either. I remember putting Riju to bed that night….no, she asked me to stay and talk to her until she fell asleep. She told me that she felt as though the people’s faith in her was forced...that everyone underestimated her because she was a child and that everyone was disappointed in her because Chief Alula was so great and she wasn’t like her. I spent hours trying to get her to rest. I told her that I understood how she felt. I told her my whole story, reminded her that even though I was so much older than her, I still doubted myself. She told me she was glad that I told her that. She said that the fact that we had that in common was something she liked.”

“I can see why. Lady Riju is a young Chief who lost her mother before she’d even gotten the chance to mature. To hear that her own bodyguard had similar misgivings about her position allowed her to relate to you. You comforted her.”

“And while I was doing that, the Yiga infiltrated the palace, slaughtered any guards in their way, and stole the Thunder Helm. It didn’t matter that I interrogated and killed the stragglers. The Thunder Helm was gone. And Riju blamed _herself._ ”

Furosa opened her mouth as if to reply, but closed it after a second or two. Pritana exited the kitchen with two plates balanced on a tray. She set both of them down in front of Buliara; one was the risotto Furosa has asked for and the other had some sort of brightly colored cake on it. It was truly an alarming shade. 

“Here’s the risotto you asked for,” Pritana murmured. Her voice was unnaturally soft and low, and her eyes were downcast. “And the cake is something new I’ve been trying out. I hope you’ll enjoy it.” She bobbed up and down, a short and respectful curtsy, before leaving.

As she sauntered off, Furosa took a fork and poked the slice. “That’s a...color. Pritana’s a promising cook and all but her dishes tend to be a hit or miss. If you die of Dubious Food...I’ll tell everyone a Molduga ate you.”

Buliara winced at that, hand instinctively reaching up to brush at her ribs. “Yeah...that’s how I want to go out.”

“Oh. I forgot. Anyway, you were saying?”

“I’m saying that if I had been on the front lines, we never would have had this problem. But I was also keeping Riju safe…”

“Ah, the source of your conflictions have been revealed,” Furosa said. “Buliara, you’re not incompetent.”

“Tell that to Rima.”

“Rima’s an old hag. When she was Chief Of Military, she was very successful and yes, she kept Gerudo Town safe. But she was also unforgiving and didn’t possess a drop of mercy in her. When the Thunder Helm was stolen, I had to listen to her lamenting about how things never would have been this way if she was in charge. I had to listen to her complaining about you and Teake. I even had to listen to her graphically describe how she would’ve stopped everything from happening. She’s very annoying, you know.” Furosa shook her head. “But, while she was complaining, I couldn’t help but tell myself that I like the way you do things. Chief Riju isn’t exactly the Chief we thought would succeed Chief Alula but she’s just a child. She has many, many years to prove her worth to everyone in Gerudo Town. And you’re still young. You’ve been Chief Of Military for only...when did you become Chief?”

“Four years ago.”  
  
“Exactly. And you became Captain Of The Guard three years before. And you served in the military for six years before that! Obviously, you were competent enough to advance through the ranks like that. You’ve served Gerudo Town for thirteen-almost-fourteen years. Don’t throw that out of the window.”

“I’m not—”

“Hush. If you’re really so concerned, put yourself back on the front lines again. Yes, the situation is getting worse what with the marketplace incident and the murders/kidnappings at Kara Kara Bazaar but don’t act like it’s too late to change everything. To turn the tides of war. Surely there’s someone you can entrust Riju’s care in.”

_Teake. Katta. Kotta. Smaude. Babi…._

“When we left Kara Kara Bazaar, Riju suddenly had a ‘great idea’. She was upset about the murders and the kidnappings and the fact that we had no leads. You can imagine my intrigue. Suddenly, she’s telling me that our new mission is to find the Princess Of Hyrule and the Hylian Champion and ask for their help.”

“Oh. That’s...ambitious.”

“No, it’s foolish. She completely forgot that Gerudo Town has a Military, a guard force, and...me.”

“Yes, her incompetent Chief Of Military.” Furosa said, rolling her eyes.

Buliara fought a smile off her face. “Yes. Me. I spent the entire trip back explaining to her that she couldn’t just do that and she eventually relented. But I understand. Link came to us in our time of need. He stole the Thunder Helm back for us and then calmed Vah Naboris. To a child stressed out about her duties and losing a priceless heirloom to her family and people...Link was a storybook Hero. Even a week after he’d left, she couldn’t stop talking about the Champions and emptied out the library for every bit of information she could get on them and the Princess. I knew she’d grown obsessed but I let her do so. It didn’t affect the way she ruled, after all. I just didn’t think she’d abandon all logic because of it.”

Buliara took a break then. Her mouth felt dry from talking so much and she turned her focus on the risotto Pritana had brought out for her. Furosa ducked into the kitchen while she ate and Buliara hoped she wasn’t bringing out any more food — Buliara was in no mood to eat and only did so because Furosa demanded she do so. Thankfully, Furosa returned without a thing to eat. Instead, she was mixing an odd colored drink that she placed in front of Buliara.

“Here’s something new I’ve been trying. I think you need it.”

“I don’t drink.”

“I never said it was alcoholic,” Furosa shot back. “You sound raspy, so drink up. If you’ve told me everything you’ve got bottled up, then I’d be glad to give you my thoughts. But only if you drink.”

Buliara sighed and brought the glass closer. The smell of citrus was strong but Furosa was telling the truth, there wasn’t a single hint of alcohol. She took a small sip from it, eye twitching at the overly sweet flavor of the drink, then nodded at Furosa to continue.

“I think you should return to the front lines,” Furosa said. “Don’t deny it but you’ve given yourself some terrible anxiety by removing yourself from it. I’m not saying that your decision to protect Riju as her bodyguard was wrong, but Vah Naboris is no longer a threat and Riju isn’t an idiot — she’s not going to go after the Yiga on her own or anything, especially after you strongly advised her not to. She does value your council, after all. I think it’s time for you to stick your nose deep into this Yiga Clan business, find out everything you can and personally work on ways to get rid of this threat. The military and Teake are doing okay on their own but they can do even better with you. Get your smithy running again too and get the military equipped with the finest weaponry Gerudo Town has ever seen. But knowing you, you’ve already thought about doing this and just needed a moment to sip on it.”

Buliara didn’t say anything. For a moment, she concentrated on finishing the risotto, forcing down the cake (it was extremely bland), and downing the drink. She stacked the empty plates and pushed them and the empty glass towards Furosa.

“Yeah that’s what I thought. Thanks Furosa.”

“Forget about it,” Furosa replied. “I was in your position before. Granted, I was Captain Of The Guard but Rima used to have the same doubts you have now. I’ve given this kind of advice before. I don’t know why everyone thinks people in leading positions have incredible confidence and level-headedness all the time. It’s a myth; you kind of people have the worse inferiority complexes I’ve ever seen. Good thing we have ex-Captain bartenders to come crying too, right?”

“I didn’t come crying to you!”

“Yet.”

Buliara groaned and fished some rupees out, setting them on the the counter for the meal. “I’m leaving. _Vasaaq_ , Furosa.”

“ _Vasaaq_ , Ali.”

Buliara left the Noble Canteen feeling utterly exhausted...but clear-headed. Already, the gears in her brain were already turning, formulating a plan using the advice Furosa had given her.

Rather than return to the Soldiers Barracks, Buliara made her way down south into Gerudo Town, coming to stop in front of her childhood home. The old house — which had belonged to the Ali family for several generations — was a little shabby looking, and it didn’t help that Muava was almost never home. But it never failed to send a rush of fondness through her. It was smaller than the buildings that surrounded it, its roof was slanted peculiarly, and a small tarp kept the porch from baking in the heat. On its old, wooden door, a familiar series of marks spoke out to her.

Messily carved into the wood was Teake’s name, the letters carved too big and still rough around the edges. A smaller, neater carving below it spelled Buliara’s name. An even smaller carving, carved in elegant, cursive script was Muava’s name. Buliara remembered watching Teake deface the door, scolding her and telling her that they’d be in so much trouble when Muava got back home. Surprisingly, that hadn’t been the case; Muava had come home, taken one look at Teake’s vandalism, and had told the two of them that they might as well finish the job.

“I’d rather Teake vandalize her own home than someone else’s,” Muava had told Buliara when she’d protested. “Less trouble that way.”

Buliara traced the carvings with her fingers, sighing at the memory. Teake wasn’t a delinquent and Buliara wasn’t a nervous scholar anymore but she couldn’t help but miss the days when they were. There were no lights on inside and she wondered if her mother was home. She considered knocking but then abandoned the idea. Most likely, Muava wasn’t home, and if she was, she slept like a boulder and Buliara wouldn’t have gotten inside anyways. Turning from the door, Buliara made her way out of the neighborhood and back to the marketplace.

Most of the booths were closing up now and the ones that were still open didn’t bother to call out to Buliara are she passed. After a minute of searching, Buliara located the booth that had called out to her last. The merchant, who was close to falling asleep, perked up as Buliara approached.

“You said something about a Sand-Seal plushie?” Buliara asked, opening up her pouch of rupees.

 

***

 

As usual, Riju shut her eyes tight as gentle shaking attempted to rouse her from her sleep. When the shaking persisted, she swatted at someone’s arm and grumbled.

“Go away! Give me five more minutes, Buliara.”

“Lady Riju? I’m sorry, but Buliara isn’t the one trying to wake you up.”

Riju opened her eyes, sitting up in bed to meet the eyes of one of her bedroom guards. This guard had a much darker complexion than Buliara and a stoic and scarred face. Her armor was simpler and her eyes were more muddy green than the intense green shade Riju was familiar with. She knelt by Riju’s bed, the spear of the Gerudo Guard strapped to her back.

“Oh, Bertri,” Riju said. The guard nodded, confirming her identity. “Er, where’s Buliara?”

“Chief Buliara has left her post as your personal bodyguard, ma’am,” Bertri reported. The scar that ran from her temple to her mouth curled as she spoke. “She’s told all guards on duty that she’s returning to the front lines of Gerudo Town’s defense in order to reign in control over the Yiga Clan matter. Don’t worry, Lady Riju, palace defense was increased after she took her leave and Chief Buliara has asked me to tell you that she will return to her post when the Yiga Clan matter is resolved.”

“Oh.” Riju didn’t exactly know how to reply, or feel, about this. Bertri continued her report.

“Captain Teake wished for me to report to you that training and activity amongst the guard and military has increased considerably at Chief Buliara’s request. Every soldier is on high alert for possible Yiga intruders or an even more possible Yiga attack. Chief Buliara has also reopened her smithy; she’s currently repairing and restocking the military’s inventory.”

“She was always a good blacksmith…”

“Indeed. She also left you this and has wished you luck at your morning assembly.”

At the thought of her morning assembly without Buliara, Riju shuddered. Everything she said and everything she did there was judged. She was expected to make heavy decisions regarding Gerudo Town’s present and future in the throne room and the latest topic was about the attacks on Kara Kara Bazaar. Too many wanted to know what she was going to do. Too many wanted to know if their family members were still alive. If they’d be rescued. Buliara’s presence was comforting — it reminded her of when she used to observe her mother’s own morning assemblies and councils. Back when she didn’t have the fate of Gerudo Town in her hands.

Bertri set a Sand-Seal plushie in Riju’s lap. For a minute, all Riju could do was stare at it.

It was pink with black, button eyes. Little white tusks had been visibly stitched onto it and a small, red tongue poked out between its tusks, giving it a playful expression. A blue ribbon bow was tied around its tail and the fur that made up its mane had the coarseness of real Sand-Seal fur.

“It’s quite adorable, Lady Riju. How thoughtful of Chief Buliara,” Bertri intoned as old memories began to swirl in Riju’s mind.

 

“ _Makeela,” Chief Alula called from her throne._

_Riju, who had been hiding behind a pillar, cursed under her breath. So much for spying. Emerging from behind the pillar, she came towards the throne, curtsied, and looked up at her mother._

_Chief Alula had always been regal; she was tall and her red hair brushed the ground when she walked. Her robes were dyed indigo and her makeup was always dark; Riju always thought she looked like some dark sorceress from a kingdom in the Gerudo Highlands. However, her eyes were soft and so was the smile on her lips. In her lap sat a rather peculiar thing: a gray, Sand-Seal plushie. Riju’s eyes locked on it, noticing the bright pink bow tied onto the Sand-Seal’s mane._

_“Happy birthday. I know you’re eight now and you’re probably starting to outgrow plushies but—”_

_“I love it!”_

_“—I hope you can enjoy it anyway. Oh. Never mind.”_

_“It looks just like Patricia!”_

_“I should hope it does. I made it myself.”_

_When Chief Alula held it out for her, Riju all but snatched it, marveling at the plushie and its likeness to her own Sand-Seal. She gave it an experimental squeeze, delighted to learn that it was just as soft as it looked. Her mother’s chuckle was melodious._

_“I see. I guess it’s safe to assume that your fascination with plushies won’t be ending soon. I’m glad you like it.”_

_Riju stopped squeezing the plushie and hopped up the steps of the throne. Regardless of the looks she got from some of the officials in the throne room, she climbed into her mother’s lap like she used to when she was a even younger and gave her mother her own squeeze. Chief Alula returned it even tighter._

_“Thank you!”_

_“Of course, dear, of course. Promise me you’ll treasure it always for me, okay?”_

_“Okay!”_

 

“Lady Riju? I believe it’s almost time for your morning assembly. Do you need any help getting ready?”

Somehow the Sand-Seal plushie had ended up in Riju’s crushing embrace. It squeaked when she squeezed it and a smile bloomed on Riju’s face. She supposed this was Buliara’s somewhat awkward way of saying “I’m sorry for having an epiphany and just up and leaving” but even if this was her olive branch…Riju couldn’t bring herself to be angry. Not when she understood. Not when she was scared and knew Buliara was one of the few people in this world who could turn the tides of war so quickly. Bertri was still kneeling on the floor, awaiting Riju’s answer. Steeling her nerves and mentally telling herself that everything would be okay, Riju turned to Bertri and shook her head.

“No. I think I’ve got it. Make sure everything is prepared for my arrival.”

“Naturally, Lady Riju.” Bertri slowly got to her feet, body still hunched in a respectful bow as she began to back out. She was almost to the door when a great, loud ringing sound pierced the air. Riju’s blood ran cold as she recognized it.

“It’s appears, Lady Riju,” Bertri murmured from where she’d frozen, “that Gerudo Town is under attack.”

“The Yiga Clan doesn’t do attacks like this,” Riju whispered. “They’re sneaky and underhanded. They value the element of surprise!” She recalled every old book she’d managed to pull from the library about the Yiga. Unshockingly, there hadn’t been much to glean from the vague accounts of the Clan but the concepts had been clear enough. The Yiga didn’t do all out attacks. They always tried to find ways past your front lines. They cut down your weak and made examples of your strong. The scrape of metal on metal suddenly sounded, cutting through the sound of the watchtowers warning bell, as Bertri unsheathed her spear.

“I must go and protect the palace. Lady Riju, please do not leave this room!” She didn’t wait for Riju’s response, turning on her heel and rushing her way out into the hall. Two spears crossed in front of Riju’s doorway, makeshift doors that would allow some sort of security until the danger had passed. The guards outside, as stoic and as robotic as ever, were now wired for combat.

And yet Riju was alone. There was no Buliara and the Golden Claymore to protect her. Though she valued every guard who laid down their life to protect her, none of them were Buliara. Or Teake. Or Rima. Or Furosa. Or even Chief Alula, her mother who used to hide a literal dagger up her sleeve because she’d sworn to herself that she’d always go down fighting.

As the bell’s ringing continued, the Sand-Seal plushie her mother had sewn for her made its way into her grasp along with the Sand-Seal plushie Buliara has bought for her.

With her face buried in the twin manes of the Sand-Seal plushie, Riju quietly murmured to herself, “This...this is all my fault, isn’t it?”

The Sand-Seal plushies didn’t answer her but the bell outside ceased in its ringing, the first sign of a battle gone underway. It was answer enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this chapter, I decided that I wanted to explore a crucial part of Buliara’s character: her role as Riju’s bodyguard. It’s stated in game that she never left Riju’s side AFTER Riju decided to tail after Vah Naboris and since this fic is half about exploring Gerudo characters, I’m sure you can guess why this chapter was written this way. 
> 
> I wanted to portray Buliara with reservations about her job as Chief Of Military, especially after listening to Rima kind of back hand compliment her in game (“I thought I could relax at last, now that Buliara’s come of age. But then something like this happens...” - Rima), I wanted to write a Buliara that’s affected by her people’s opinions of her. I can imagine that making the choice to remove herself from the front lines in order to protect Riju wouldn’t have been an easy choice to make and so that’s what became the topic of this chapter. I figured Buliara would’ve had some negative feelings after a particular exchange between her and Riju: Riju wonders about her competence as a Chief, Buliara tells her that it’s HER and the guards fault for the theft of the Thunder Helm. Riju then tells her not to beat herself up about it.
> 
> I also wanted to explore Riju and her possible anxiety and insecurity over her being the Chief Of The Gerudo people, especially since she’s close to my age. After listening to some NPCs, you can learn that some people actually doubt Riju and Riju herself even expresses her own doubts about her leadership after the death of her mother. 
> 
> So yeah this chapter was really fun to write and relate to and I can’t wait to finally put Buliara in action next chapter! Thanks for reading and, as always, I appreciate feedback. Feedback helps me write better so please think of it as doing me a very appreciated favor.


	5. Mistress Aaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buliara goes head to head with a new enemy.

Buliara froze, hammer suspended in the air between it and the blade of a recently restored sword. The loud thrum of the bell cut through the air, disturbing the morning peace and sending apprehensive chills down her spine. A swish of air to her left made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Buliara lunged to the right, reaching for her claymore, as the wicked blade of a sickle materialized and missed her, hitting the sword and the anvil underneath it instead. Her Golden Claymore was in her hands as she spun around, facing her attacker.

Yiga Clan assassins were all clones of each other — all clad in black and red, their faces obscured by their white masks. The red-painted, upside down Sheikah eye seemed to mock their victims, a bastardized version of the old symbol of guardianship. Though the sickle was an impractical weapon in the eyes of any seasoned warrior, the Yiga Clan had managed to turn a simple farm instrument into a tool of death. Who knew how many people had meet their end at the end of that blade…

She didn’t have much time to dwell on that as the would-be assassin lept at her with deadly intent, blade aimed straight for her neck. In a single sweep of her claymore, the blow was countered and the assassin fell backwards. Buliara didn’t even allow them to hit the floor alive; her Golden Claymore swung downwards and ended the fight before it could progress.

Shutting down her smithy was a rushed process, as was the process of strapping on her armor, but by the time she’d stepped outside, the front lines of Gerudo Town’s military was already gathering at the gates. Babi, the eldest of them all, stood at the front and the group of soldiers made way for Buliara.

“What’s the problem?” Buliara asked as soon as she was at Babi’s side. The seasoned warrior was shorter than she was, her hands spotted with age and her hair had turned almost completely white. Yet, she was known for being tough as nails and one of the few soldiers from Rima’s reign still fighting on the front lines.

“Watchtower saw something,” Babi explained. Her gaze scanned the bloodied side of the Golden Claymore. “What happened?”

“A Yiga assassin. As you can see, I took care of it,” Buliara answered, and turned her attention to the tower. The bell was still ringing. “Think it’s related?”

“No doubt,” Babi said. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Someone tries to take out the Chief of Military while the army is running around thanks to the bell. If it’s not the Yiga, then I’m retiring.”

“Is the palace on guard?” Buliara asked. “Is Riju protected?”

“Of course,” Babi said. “The people have been ushered out of the streets and told to stay and lock up in their homes. So far, no one’s running around screaming about their missing children.”

“Good,” Buliara said. When the bell suddenly stopped ringing, every guard fell into familiar formation, shields and swords at the ready. Buliara’s eyes narrowed as a cloud of sand appeared on the horizon. A telescope was passed to Babi, who barely glanced through it before she handed it to Buliara. Through the telescope, the identity of the approaching form was revealed.

An entire herd of Sand-Seals had been leashed and saddled, about a dozen or so cows and bulls rushing towards Gerudo Town. In front of them was a meaner, older looking bull, and his rider looked no friendlier. Like the assassin, the rider was clad in black-and-red but had added a wide-brimmed collar around the neck and horn-like spikes lined their mask. Dozens of little braids could be seen flying behind the rider, along with the sword that had been strapped to their back. The eye on their mask had been painted with harsher streaks, turning it into a glare.

“Get the Sand-Seals!” Buliara barked as she lowered the telescope. “Move it!”

Gerudo soldiers had been trained to move as fast as possible, a fact that was evident as the Sand-Seals were brought out, harnessed, and ridden out of Gerudo Town. Buliara’s ride, a large, older bull covered in scars that marked his years of service, lead the herd and its army of riders away from Gerudo Town and towards their fast approaching threat. Sand-Seals had always fought with the army; they were territorial creatures and the approaching Yiga Clan Sand-Seals were already causing manes to rise and angry huffs and barks to fill the air.

Buliara found comfort in her thoughts as they approached the their threat. If the front lines fell — if her lines fell — Gerudo Town would still be protected thanks to the guards left behind, commanded by Captain Teake. And if they fell, then Chief Riju and her people would be escorted by whoever was left to the northern Gerudo Kingdom. Where Queen Diana ruled. That particular Gerudo civilization was bigger and had an impressive military. If the situation in Gerudo Town really did regress to that point, Buliara could die knowing that her people would be alright in the end.

She picked up speed, riding on ahead. Matching her movements, the Yiga Clan rider that was surely their leader, speed up as well to meet Buliara in the middle. This was simply battle custom, a chance to offer some kind of diplomacy before both sides tried to bash each other’s brains out. In the past, it had rarely worked; most enemies went into battle without a second thought. Besides, there was no reasoning with a Clan full of murderers.

As the two of them stopped before one another, both of them raised an open palm to their respective soldiers to command them to halt. Their bulls snorted angrily at each other but refrained from attacking. Buliara dismounted first, hand coming to rest on her the hilt of her claymore. The rider dismounted as well but kept their hands to their side. Buliara held no doubt that the rider had multiple weapons on their person and did not rely only on that sword.

She spoke first, “I’ll spare you the formalities. Who are you and what did you come for?”

_Who did you come for?_

It was a moment before the rider spoke. The rider lifted their hands to their face — their mask — and removed it in one clean, fluid motion. Buliara tried to keep her face neutral at the sight of what lay underneath.

The rider’s face was feminine, but only underneath dozens of devastatingly severe scars that ranged from little nicks underneath and over her eyes, chin, and ears to long gashes that tore through her cheek, lips, and forehead. Her eyes were bloodshot but focused, and hatred writhed deep inside of her dark irises. When she spoke, her voice was clear but cold.

“I am Mistress Aaya,” Said the rider. “The leader of the Yiga Clan.”

Buliara’s gaze swept over the numerous warrior-riders behind her and believed it.

“I became leader after The Hero killed my brother,” Mistress Aaya continued. “But he never would have slain Kohga if it hadn’t been for your Chief.”

“Our Chief Riju never ordered the death of your brother,” Buliara replied evenly. “I was there. I am Buliara Ali, Gerudo Town’s Chief Of Military, and I can assure you that your brother was never a target, only a causality.”

“Oh, I believe you.” Mistress Aaya’s eyes narrowed, becoming slits of red among her scarred face. “It’s just that I don’t care. The Hero never would have killed my brother had he not been sent there in the first place.”

“If memory serves me right, your clan stole our Thunder Helm,” Buliara hissed. “You can't honestly believe that we would have let that go.”

“And If memory serves me right, your Guard was weak enough to let us get away with it,” Mistress Aaya shot back. “But we sure didn’t kill your dear Chief in the process did we? My dear Buliara, I am a woman that firmly believes in ‘an eye for an eye’. The Hero will get what’s coming for him...and so will everyone that ever wronged the Yiga Clan. Shoot the wolf and his whole pack will be out for your blood, yes?”

“You’re making a mistake,” Buliara said. Her hand had tightened around the hilt of her claymore and it was only the years of discipline she’d endured during her entire career in the military that stopped her from swinging at Mistress Aaya.

“Am I?” Mistress Aaya murmured. “Let’s count how many Gerudo bodies will litter this desert and then we’ll know whether or not I’ve made a mistake.”

The time for talking was over. Mistress Aaya hand flew to her sword and she bellowed for her soldiers to attack. Buliara didn’t hesitate, yelling for her own Gerudo forces to lay waste to the Yiga before unsheathing her claymore. She met Mistress Aaya’s first swing with her Golden Claymore, the clang of their two weapons ringing over the sounds of ensuing battle before a puff of smoke blew up in her face, blinding her.

She backed up quickly, melting back in with her own forces as she blinked furiously, clearing her watering eyes. When her vision cleared, she found that Mistress Aaya had disappeared in the throng of battle. But there was no time to dwell on that. The first Yiga soldier foolish enough to attack Buliara was felled with a blade to the side, and she started on the long, bloody path of mowing down foes.

Throughout battle, Buliara could only steal momentary glances at her soldiers. She fought grief when she saw one, two, three soldiers felled and felt her chest swell with pride as she watched each soldier avenged by Babi or Smaude or Kotta. As she fought, she kept an eye out for Mistress Aaya. She would release the wrath of a Molduga upon the Mistress of the Yiga Clan as soon as she saw her.

But the fighting continued, and not a single glimpse of Mistress Aaya was caught. She couldn’t have left the battlefield...no, Buliara had not sensed an ounce of cowardice in that hate-filled gaze of Aaya’s. She found that her thoughts were correct when cut down another soldier and found herself face to face with Mistress Aaya.

“Ah, you found me!” Mistress Aaya was covered in blood. Buliara could detect no injuries hindering her, which told her that Aaya had done nothing but slaughter Gerudo soldiers without any repercussions since the battle began. The fact filled her with rage. “Why the disgusted look, dear? You’ve done nothing but slaughter my men and women since the beginning and I’m the bad guy?”

“Oh, shut up,” Buliara snarled. Mistress Aaya grinned without remorse and leapt at Buliara, the silver blade of her sword glinting in the desert sun. This time, they’re war against each other was ongoing, the two of them countering each other’s blows over and over. Mistress Aaya was relentless...but so was Buliara. She’d sworn to herself and the many inhabitants of Gerudo Town that she was slay every threat. Even when the side of Mistress Aaya’s sword found its new home in Buliara’s thigh, she pressed on, gritting through the pain.

“Gerudo Town will surely mourn this loss,” Mistress Aaya said as she retracted her blade. Buliara had never liked the sight of her blood on someone else’s weapon, and focused her attention on Mistress Aaya’s movements. “I must say, I admire your fight.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“What can I say? I love to gloat!”

Mistress Aaya’s gloating was interrupted by the hilt of Buliara’s claymore slamming into her face, sending her reeling back. “Can’t talk without any teeth.”

Holding her jaw with one hand, Mistress Aaya spat and hissed, “Good one. You’re still not leaving this battlefield alive.”

“I was counting on it but whatever you say, Mistress Aaya,” Buliara spat the other woman’s name like a curse, and pressed on. Her thigh was burning now, the pain dampened by adrenaline. Mistress Aaya cut at her again — this time it was her side — and regained her confidence when Buliara began to favor her injury.

“What’s the matter? Slowing down?” Mistress Aaya taunted.

Though every breath sent shooting pains up and down her ribs, torturing her old injuries, Buliara managed to stay upright and fighting. She didn’t award Aaya with a reply, hitting her instead with the flat of her blade and sending her on her ass.

“Oh, yes, I’ll have your head!” Mistress Aaya snapped as she regained her footing. “You, Dorephan’s, and The Hero’s!”

“What did King Dorephan do to you?” Buliara asked as she spun and dodged Mistress Aaya’s next attack.

“I’d say ‘you’ll find out’ but I’m afraid you won’t live long enough for that!” Mistress Aaya leapt again and Buliara used her claymore as a shield, forcing her back.

“Didn’t I tell you that I had every intention of leaving this battlefield alive?” With that, Buliara swept her leg out and knocked Mistress Aaya’s feet out from under her. Before she could recover, Buliara kept her pinned with the tip of her claymore pressing lightly at the Mistress’s neck. “I don’t know about your intentions, but I think they’ve been compromised.”

“Huh,” Was all Mistress Aaya said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell that I had a lot of fun writing this dialogue? I edited the note for my previous chapter but just in case everyone did not get the memo, my update schedule has been moved from every Friday to every Saturday. I will be able to keep this schedule up better than my previous one since school will be out of the way. As usual, I appreciate comments and constructive criticisms as they help me continue to write and improve! See you next Saturday.


	6. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buliara and Riju deal with the aftermath of the battle.

Buliara should have killed her right then and there.

 

 The battle around her didn’t stop, not even when the Yiga’s leader was held down in the sand by her Golden Claymore. It was pure bloodlust that drove the clan of assassins, and it would stop for no one.

 

 Mistress Aaya didn’t even look remotely concerned, even when the weight of the claymore began to chafe at her skin. If Buliara read her right, she could even say that Aaya looked...bored.

 

 “I’ve heard about you, Buliara,” Aaya drawled. Her finger caressed the side of the claymore. “Heard that the Gerudo value you as an adept warrior. If your people were the type to give medals, I’d say that you’d be positively decorated.”

 

 “If this is your attempt to distract me from killing or apprehending you, then I must say that you’re doing a horrendous job,” Buliara replied.

 

 “Apprehend me?” Aaya laughed, throat bobbing against the blade. The mass of scars on her face crinkled horribly when she sneered. “I don’t think so. I would rather die.”

 

 “I’d be happy to deliver death to you,” Buliara said. “I really would. But I have questions--”

 

 “And I have answers,” Aaya interrupted. “But I’m afraid you’re going to have to work a little bit harder to get them.”

 

 Faster than she could have anticipated, the Yiga Clan leader kicked Buliara’s legs out from under her, rolling to her right to avoid the claymore cutting her throat. Buliara was back on her feet before she could even register hitting the ground, but by the time she’d retrieved her claymore, Mistress Aaya had disappeared in the midst of her soldiers.

 

 A moment later, a cry for retreat rippled over the Yiga Clan soldiers, and the Gerudo army pressed forward as their foes began to back away from the battle. Enemy Sand-Seals were mounted once more, and the Gerudo’s Sand-Seals nipped at tails and ears as they hurriedly swam off. In seconds, the last few blows were exchanged before the stragglers were run off or killed. It happened so quickly that Buliara never would have known a battle had occurred if not for the stinging of her wounds, the blood soaking into the sand, and the bodies left behind.

 

 “Buliara!” Babi called out. The older Gerudo soldier jogged up to Buliara and jerked her head in the direction of the departing Yiga Clan. “Should we follow them?”

 

 “Yes,” Buliara said, still trying to process what had just happened. Mistress Aaya had escaped. She was still alive...and that made her a danger. “I want you and a few others to tail them. Don’t engage them; just make sure they’re far away from Gerudo Town.”

 

 “Will do.” Babi was gone without another word, calling out to a few of the younger Gerudo soldiers to follow her on their Sand-Seals.

 

  Doing her best to clear her head, Buliara turned her attention to the remaining soldiers, who were licking their wounds, gathering their weapons...and counting the dead.

 

 “Who did we lose?” Buliara asked the nearest soldier, a young Gerudo woman named Leena.

 

 “My sister,” Leena said. Buliara followed her gaze towards the body of a soldier with her throat cut wide open. “Her name was Liana.”

 

 Liana. She trained some of the soldiers in the Barracks when Babi wasn’t around to do so. She was also the sister of Laine and Lashley -- the twins that guarded the northwest entrances of Gerudo Town -- and Dalia, one of the Gerudo children Buliara always saw running around. Lorn was her mother.

 

 “I’m sorry,” Buliara said, resting a hand on Leena’s shoulder. Leena nodded, eyes gleaming. Though the soldier looked three seconds away from a breakdown, she reported the other three deaths: Yondal, Naliana, and Oma. It pained Buliara to realize that all of those soldiers, save for Liana, had been new. Inexperienced. And they’d been slaughtered for it.

 

 After everyone had been identified, Buliara ordered a quarter of the remaining soldiers, including Leena, to stay behind and deal with the those they’d lost and the rest of the soldiers to follow her back to Gerudo Town. Though the Yiga had disappeared without a trace, it didn’t mean Gerudo Town was entirely safe. For all she knew, Mistress Aaya had sent others to attack the town while she kept the army at bay. She was certainly clever and cruel enough to do so.

 

 They rode back in solemn silence. Buliara’s Sand-Seal bore a gaping wound on his shoulder, but he stuck through the ride home with little more than a few whines. Buliara made a mental note to herself to have something sent to the stables after she’d secured Gerudo Town. Kohm would appreciate medication for the wounds, and the Sand-Seals would appreciate extra fruits.

 

 When Gerudo Town finally came back in sight, Buliara wanted to weep with relief. The guards still stood at the entrance, alive and well, and the watchtower heralded their return with a short bout of bell-ringing that made a few residents stick their heads out of their homes to watch them return. But Buliara’s true worries still lay deep within Gerudo Town. The palace was likely still on lockdown. In case of attack, the palace was the last stronghold of Gerudo Town, and its guards would fight to the death to keep it standing. When it fell, its’ residents and the remaining Gerudo people would flee through the underground tunnels beneath it, and would travel to the Gerudo Highlands to claim sanctuary from Queen Diana. Buliara had only met the queen a few times in her lifetime, and had paid her respects to Neveah’s grave in the capital of Frellia. Someday, she would visit again, but she hoped it wouldn’t be because her home had been overrun and destroyed.

 

 The guards at the gate saluted Buliara as they arrived, and Kohm and her daughter Frelly were quick to take the Sand-Seals off their hands. After informing Kohm that she would send anything she needed for the Sand-Seals recovery, Buliara quickly made her way towards the palace.

 

 As she rapidly ascended up the steps, the three guards guarding the palace entrance called out to her, “Who goes there?”

 

 “It’s just me,” Buliara replied, slowing her pace as she reached the top of the steps.

 

 “Did we win?” One guard asked. Judging by the night-dark skin and black attire, Buliara guessed that this soldier’s name was Bertri.

 

 “We’re driving them off now,” Buliara said. “Was the palace breached?”

 

 “No,” Another guard replied. Buliara recognized them as Kotta, Katta’s younger sister. “No one got into town either. How bad are our losses?”

 

 “Some of our newbies didn’t make it,” Buliara said. “And we lost Liana.”

 

 “Someone should tell Lorn,” The third guard, Marta, said. “I’ll do it.”

 

 “One of you relieve Laine and Lashley off of duty,” Buliara said. “Send them home and make sure someone replaces them. Kotta, you do it. Bertri, spread word around Gerudo Town that the palace is being secured.”

 

 She was met with a chorus of “yes ma’ams”, and all three guards departed to fulfill their respective duties. Buliara pressed on, relaying the aftermath of the battle to every guard she passed before she reached Riju’s room. Katta and Smaude guarded the entrance, spears crossed.

 

 “At ease,” Buliara said as she approached. “Is the Chief in there?”

 

 “Hasn’t moved all morning,” Smaude replied. “She’s upset.”

 

 “She’s been worried about you,” Katta said. “She’ll be pleased to see that you’re in one piece.”

 

 As if reminding Buliara that they existed, the wounds she’d suffered from Mistress Aaya throbbed painfully. The wound on her thigh had reduced her to a limp, which was growing heavier, and the one on her side was giving her painful reminders to her accident in her youth. However, she was still in one piece...just a little battered. She’d see Riju, and then she’d get someone to patch up her wounds. Her armor gave pressure to each wound, and that offered a little relief.

 

 “Well, let me in,” Buliara said. The two guards nodded and uncrossed their spears, then shuffled to the side to give her room.

 

 Buliara barely took two steps in before she was tackled. Riju, who had sprung from the bed the minute she heard Buliara’s voice in the hall, had barreled forward to embrace her. From somewhere in the room, Patricia barked happily.

 

 Riju was shaking. Instinctively, Buliara pulled her close and soothed her with gentle rubs on her back.

 

 “It’s alright,” She said. “I’m here. You’re here.”

 

 “Are they gone?” Riju asked, voice muffled.

 

 “Yes,” Buliara said. “Babi and some other soldiers are making sure of that. They didn’t even get into town.”

 

 Riju shuddered, and then sighed. They stood there for a moment, Buliara comforting and Riju embracing, before they finally broke apart. By then, Patricia had made her way over and lightly bumped Buliara with her shoulder.

 

 Regarding her, Buliara said, “Who keeps letting you in here?”

 

 An awkward cough from Katta gave her her answer.

 

 “I asked for her,” Riju said. “Sorry.”

 

 “No, it’s fine,” Buliara said. “Just make sure she doesn’t try to eat the sheets. Or get in the bed.”

 

 “Tell me about the battle,” Riju said. She had settled herself back onto her bed, and was now gripping both of her Sand-Seal plushies. Her grip was tight, and Buliara suspected that her anxiety was tormenting her. Hearing about battle wouldn’t do much to help her, then.

 

 “Riju,” Buliara said, ready to discourage her from asking, “I don’t think-”

 

 “No, no, no,” Riju interrupted. “Don’t mother me. Not right now. I want to know. I have the right to know.”

 

 When Buliara hesitated, Riju continued, “Buliara, please. How am I supposed to do anything if I don’t know anything?”

 

 It was hard to combat that logic. Though she’d never done so before, Buliara was sure that if she kept resisting, Riju would pull rank on her and force her to spill. So she told her, never skipping a detail, especially when she got to Mistress Aaya.

 

 “That’s her name?” Riju murmured. “Mistress Aaya. And she truly does want revenge for her brother’s death.”

 

 “Yes. She has issues with King Dorephan and the Hero as well,” Buliara said.

 

 “What about the Princess?” Riju asked.

 

 “What about her? She most likely perished alongside the Champions all those years ago,” Buliara answered.

 

 “And if she didn’t?”

 

 “...Then I suppose Mistress Aaya will want her dead as well.”

 

 Riju seemed to contemplate this, the gears in her mind turning almost visibly. When the silence in the room became unbearable, Buliara spoke again.

 

 “Riju? What are you thinking?”

 

 “I’m thinking that after we’ve secured the town, we should get in contact with King Dorephan of the Zoras. See and assess their situation,” Riju said. “And send word to the Hero.”

 

 “What are you planning, Riju?”

 

 Though she looked as scared as she had when Buliara had entered her room, a clever gleam had nestled itself in Riju’s gaze. “This is a threat that concerns us all, Buliara. Before Hyrule fell, when issues concerned several kingdoms at once, it was the leaders of those nations that put their heads together to solve problems. That is the reason why we once had Champions, even if their first run failed.”

 

 “So what exactly are you suggesting?”

 

 “A summit conference. A meeting between the Gerudo Chiefs, the Zora Royal Family, the surviving members of Hyrule nobility, and maybe even the Gorons if they so please. Mistress Aaya is a threat to us all, now. This battle? Petty nonsense. Imagine what damage she could really do...imagine what damage she’s already doing.”

 

 Buliara tossed the thought over and over in her mind. A summit conference. It had been too long since the races of Hyrule had united, but then again, there hadn’t been a threat to everyone like Mistress Aaya since the beginning of Calamity Ganon’s return. It wasn’t a bad idea, no.

 

 “Riju,” Buliara finally said. “When would you like to send word to the others? And where exactly would you hold this summit?”

 

 “Send word immediately,” Riju said, delight lacing her words. “A messenger to the Highlands, one to the Zora Domain, and one other to the Gorons. Find someone good at tracking and have them search high and low for the Hero.”

 

 “And the location of the summit?”

 

 “Urbosa’s Hall,” Riju said. “That’s in Queen Diana’s realm...I know she’ll let us use it.”

 

 “Very well then, Riju,” Buliara said. “We’ll try this plan of yours. And, in the meantime, we’ll have to keep Mistress Aaya at bay for as long as possible.”

 

 “We can do it,” Riju said, determination in her voice. But then, quietly, she added, “We have no choice but to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title for this chapter: The Transition Point.
> 
> Our next chapter will finally transfer to Link and Zelda, so say goodbye to Buliara and Riju for a while~
> 
> In other news, I'm excited to write about the Zoras.


	7. Two Months Earlier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda returns.

What strange world had she woken up to?

  
They’d been walking for hours, boots sloshing in the rain-soaked grass and mud as the skies overhead poured floods. The path they walked on was nothing but strips of gravel and bare of all travelers besides them.

  
When the rain had started, Link had lended her his jacket, covering up her and her white dress that was terribly unsuited for the weather. His blonde hair had been darkened, and she could see the hints of red underneath, a testament to his secret, maternal heritage. Children born between Hylians and Gerudos weren’t rare at all, but Link had favored his father’s side so much that Zelda had been shocked to learn that his mother was Gerudo. His mother had been proud to learn that her son had become the Hylian Champion...

  
But had she survived long enough to learn of her son’s fate? Had it crushed her like the news of her husband’s death had?  
She shivered at the thought, at the shame and frustration that came with it. She jumped when thunder clapped, followed by a streak of angry lightning across the heavens. Link only gave the spectacle a passing glance. Neither of them had dared to wear any metal on their body, which left Link horribly under armed. His golden shield had been replaced with a wooden shield, and his famous sword had been swapped for a mundane club. But despite the meager weapons, Zelda knew they were almost as safe as they could be out here like this. Since she’d been gone, Hyrule had all but fell. There were small settlements here and there, but they dwarfed in comparison to the cities Zelda had seen back in her time.

  
_Back in my time_ , she thought to herself. _I should be dead._ Glancing at Link, she added, _We both should._

  
“How much farther,” Zelda spoke up, voice croaking. It would take a minute for her vocal cords to get used to be used by a mortal body again. “How much father until we reach the village?”

  
Link turned his head to reply, his voice nothing more than a ghost of a whisper, “Not far.”

  
Just like back in their own time, Link hardly said a word. He limited himself to the shortest of sentences, and signed anything more than that. Many of the nobility of Hyrule had thought him rude for his silence, but now they weren’t even here to titter their disapproval. Zelda shouldn’t have thought that to be a good thing, but she took what she could. She spent a century and then some in a never-ending war with Calamity Ganon...she was allowed some small victories, as morbid as they could be.  
When the village appeared in her sights, Zelda wanted to weep with relief. The burning in her calves had become unbearable,  the old boots Link had found for her to wear were soaked, and the bottom of her dress was stained with mud. It had been her idea to visit the village first, but the journey had almost made her regret it. Either way, they had to get away from the old castle, which was still crawling with monsters. Clearing the area would be a task for another day, perhaps with the help of the Hylians and the Zora. Before it’s fall, Hyrule had maintained a good relationship with the aquatic kingdom, despite the contempt older Zoras had for Hylians. King Dorephan had never entertained that contempt, and had allowed Zelda to travel between their respective kingdoms as much as she wished, providing the guidance of his eldest daughter.

  
_Mipha_ , Zelda’s mind whispered. Her eyes shot to Link’s hand. Did he still wear his ring? Their marriage had been unexpected, drawing close to Calamity Ganon’s awakening, as if both of them knew that they’d only have a little time to enjoy each other’s time together. Had King Dorephan knew? Had anyone else besides the Champions known?

  
Her thoughts were interrupted when the sound of fast-moving hooves sounded behind her. Both she and Link moved out of the way as a horse-drawn wagon passed them, it’s rider giving the both of them curious looks. It was the first traveler Zelda had seen up close since they’d started their journey. Link had been strangely adamant about taking back roads and avoiding any traveling merchants they could see from a distance. Something bad was going on...but she knew he’d keep his silence until he’d assured their safety.

  
Once the traveler had passed, they continued on their way towards the villages, entrance, where two white-haired guards regarded them suspiciously. Zelda watched the flickers of recognition cross their faces when their gaze landed on Link, and then watched as their features exploded in surprise at her presence.

  
“Princess?” The Sheikah woman to her left said, hand flying up to cover her heart.

  
She had not been called “princess” in a long time. The old title felt wrong, unnatural. With no small amount of despair, Zelda realized that her title should’ve changed by now. Her father was dead, and the line of succession in Hyrule called for the eldest child to inherit the throne.

  
She should be “queen” not “princess”. Except she didn’t want to be either.

  
With the smallest of nods, she confirmed her identity, and looked up from the ground to see Link walking briskly by the guards. She recognized the note of urgency that followed each step, knew that he sensed something was wrong. Underneath the rain and the smell of sulfur, there was a strange something in the air that made Zelda’s stomach turn. Something was wrong.

  
Brushing past the guards, Zelda followed Link, almost breaking into a run to catch up with his pace. The mud stained skirts of her dress billowed around her as she followed, and Sheikah around her turned to gape. Some possessed the signature red eyes of the ancient Sheikah — revealing how old they truly were — which meant that the recognition in their faces wasn’t false.

  
She passed small, traditional houses, with the upright eye of the Sheikah staring at her as she passed. A strange sort of comfort fell over her at the sight. Though the world had left her in the dust, the Sheikah were unchanging. She felt as though she belonged amongst them...perhaps that was why a certain Sheikah had become her bodyguard back in her youth.  
Impa...do you still live? She thought to herself. When she’d come to, she had felt the loss of the Champions, her old world, and everything familiar to her….but she had not felt the loss of the Sheikah, and that is why she asked Link to take her to where they lived.

  
When she finally caught up to Link, she noticed that a large group of Sheikah men and women were gathered in the clearing of the village. Some held farm instruments, holding them as if they were weapons. When Link approached, they parted around him and caught sight of Zelda. Once again, shock coursed across their features, interrupting the waves of grief that were coming off of them. Grief. Something very, very bad had happened.

  
She followed Link to the very middle of the gathering, and stopped cold.

  
“Impa,” She breathed, voice snagging on the name. The Sheikah woman was older now, hunched over and head bowed underneath a large hat that Zelda knew Sheikah elders wore. Large, hook-shaped ornaments swung from the hat as Impa turned around, a strange, sad smile gracing her lips.

  
“Zelda,” Her old bodyguard said. “I knew he’d rescue you…”

  
She trailed off, angling her head to what was in front of her. Zelda’s eyes followed the movement and stared.

  
Laying in the clearing was a body. Brutally beaten and bloody, the body of a Sheikah woman lay with her throat cut open so viciously her head was nearly detached from her body. Her fingers were fisted, as though she’d tried to fight back, and drawn on her forehead with her own blood was an upside down Sheikah eye.

  
“...but perhaps now was not the best time for you to return to your new world,” Impa sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies from the editor and I for the late update! Enjoy this chapter!
> 
> I’ll be deleting the authors notes as well~


	8. Two Months Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choices, choices, choices.

“This really isn’t necessary, Paya.”

“Oh, just let me do it! I’ve always dreamed of waiting on a princess. Ever since my grandmother told me that she waited on you a century ago, I’ve always wondered how I would come to fill those shoes.”

“Impa did not wait on me as much as she should’ve. She was more concerned with keeping assassins away from me, and telling clever lies to my father.”

“Oh. I can’t do that...but I can braid your hair Fisherman-Zora-style!”

“Zoras don’t even have hair to braid. Do they?”

“Just hold still, Princess!”

The familiar, soft tug of a thick comb ran through Zelda’s hair, reminding her of those moments before she was due to pay Hylia another holy visit. Except this time she was sitting before a wooden vanity with a cracked mirror, the countertop scattered with thin and thick combs, ribbons, a huge brush, and a variety of hair bobbles. They were far from the supplies Zelda was used to, but she didn’t mind. The last thing she wanted was to be treated like a princess. Though Paya still used her old title, the two had bonded quickly. Maybe it was because Paya reminded her of a much younger Impa, back when the two had met when Zelda was no older than eight. Impa had been in her late teens then, ready to serve the royal family as her parents had done for the King and Queen.

But there was no King or Queen, and there hadn’t been either for a long time. Right now, it was just her and the Sheikah. Zelda and Paya, sitting in the small house that belonged to Paya’s absentee parents. Link had boarded with Impa, and Zelda understood that the two were catching up on past events. He might’ve been avoiding her, for all she knew, but she was never one to press or pry into the Hero’s private affairs. When he was ready to talk, they’d talk. Paya made a good enough confidant, and though she didn’t truly understand Zelda’s problems, she was always willing to listen.

Zelda studied Paya’s face in the mirror. She was a cute, plump young woman with some of her long, white hair tied up at the top of her head with a simple hair ornament. The rest of her hair formed blunt bangs across her forehead, and fell down her shoulders to end at her mid back. Her tanned skin had a peachy undertone to it, a dusting of pinkish red eyeshadow graced her eyelids, and her lips possessed a subtle swipe of rosy pink wax. She looked a lot like Impa’s sister, Purah, who had rejected Sheikah warrior life for the life of a researcher and tinkerer. It had been a delight to reunite with the woman who had helped fuel Zelda’s own curiosity with studies other than her natural duties as a Princess.

“In case you had any doubts, you are pretty, Princess,” Paya suddenly said. She’d noticed Zelda staring into the mirror.

“Oh, I wasn’t looking at myself,” Zelda said. “I was actually looking at you.”

“Me?” A scarlet blush shot across Paya’s face. Unlike both Impa and Purah, Paya possessed an extreme amount of humility and could hardly stand to be complimented, or stand in the presence of someone she considered far above her. Of the two months Zelda had spent with the Sheikah, she’d spent the first three weeks trying to convince Paya that it was perfectly fine to speak with the “lost Princess of Hyrule” and the Hylian Champion. Zelda had had more luck with the former, but she hadn’t succeeded in getting Paya to quit running away whenever Link showed up.

“Yes, you,” Zelda said. “You reminded me a little bit of Impa and Purah for a moment. You know, back when Impa was my bodyguard, and Purah was the head of research.”

“Grandmother never did talk much about her duties back then,” Paya said. “Maybe it pained her.”

Zelda watched Paya pull back a bit of her hair and begin to braid it. The idea was to braid all of it, though Zelda had a feeling that she’d be sitting in front of the vanity for a while.

“Maybe it did,” Zelda said. “For her credit, she did everything she could. I had a habit of getting into a lot of trouble. I put both her and Link in some pretty tight spots.”

“You did?” Paya said, eyes widening. “And what kind of trouble could you possibly get into, Princess?”

“Shockingly, I can get myself into a lot of trouble,” Zelda said. “I was curious when I shouldn’t be, adventurous when I shouldn’t be, and I was overly defiant. Most unbecoming of a Hylian princess, you see. And my enemies always took advantage of that.”

Paya was a quick hairdresser, long and nimble fingers spinning Zelda’s hair into a dozen braids. There was still a little more than half of Zelda’s hair left, but it wouldn’t take long to braid them at this rate.

“Your enemies? And who were they?”

“Petty nobles. Crooks and criminals wanting to steal the jewelry off my neck. Monsters that would attack infants if they had the chance.”

She remembered the Sheikah woman whose throat had been cut out, and swallowed. “The Yiga.”

Paya’s fingers stilled, but only for a moment. “I can’t think of anyone who would consider those murderers a friend.”

Zelda nodded in agreement, watching Paya finish the last of the braids. She recognized the style now, more common around the dark-skinned Hylians such as herself. Normally her hair was subjected to hours of taming before her hairdressers began on her hair, but Paya had only given her mane a quick wash and dry before starting. As the last braid came to bounce against Zelda’s back, Paya straightened and admired her handiwork, humming in approval.

“I think I did pretty good...do you like it?”

Zelda touched one of the braids, noticing that Paya had subtly tied the ends of each to keep them from unraveling. “You did a fine job, really.”

Paya blushed a second time and clasped her hands together, muttering something under her breath that sounded like denial. Still, she came around the chair Zelda had been sitting in and offered a hand, pulling her out of the chair.

“Let’s get going, then. Grandmother and Purah are probably getting impatient,” Paya said. “And you don’t want to be on the receiving end of their scolding.”

She grimaced, as though she’d been victim to said scolding many times in her life, and lead Zelda out of the small house.

Fat droplets of rain were falling from the sky, and rivulets of rainwater were running off the roof of Paya’s house. The rain was reminiscent of the weather Zelda had arrived in, though there was no death shadowing it this time. It was only morning, and everyone was preoccupied with their daily affairs, but Zelda could pick out the extra guards that walked up and down the pebble road winding through the village. There’d been no more surprises from the Yiga in the past couple of months, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be back. The Sheikah were the beginning and end of the Yiga. So long as the Sheikah remained, the Yiga would continue to exist.

Paya — still holding her hand— led Zelda pass Sheikah men and women to the heavily guarded house that belonged to Impa. Zelda had done her best to greet and remember the names of the Sheikah she’d come to live amongst, and knew that the guard to her rights name was Shane, and the other was Dorian. Both former Yiga Clan members, now redeemed Sheikah guardians. At the sight of both Zelda and Paya, the two guards gave them respectful nods and bid them entrance, and Paya led Zelda up the stairs towards the entrance to Impa’s home. At said entrance was Link, who had clearly been waiting for them.

“Good morning, Link,” Zelda said, hyperaware of Paya hiding behind her.

Link exchanged his response with a quick flash of fingers, a warm smile spreading across his lips. At Paya, he signed a quick ‘ _Morning, Paya’_ , to which the young woman squeaked in response.

“I hope we haven’t kept you waiting,” Zelda said. “Paya did my hair. I think she did lovely, but she’ll deny it to her grave. Has Impa gotten impatient?”

‘ _No. She knows we are here.’_

“And Purah?”

‘ _Just arrived.’_

“Great. Paya, did you want to join us?”

“Absolutely not!” Paya said. “This is _your_ meeting, not mine!”

She was still clutching Zelda’s hang, tanned fingers intertwined with Zelda’s darker fingers. All three of them jumped when a voice burst out from behind Impa’s doors.

“Oh no you don’t! You’re coming in, Paya!” Purah’s voice called out. “You’re important!”

“I don’t want to be important,” Paya moaned.

 _Neither do I_ , Zelda thought to herself. She nodded to Link, and he turned to hold the door open for Zelda to step inside. A reluctant Paya followed, and the doors slid shut as Link brought up the rear.

Inside, Impa sat in her usual spot, head bowed and eyes closed. The ornaments hanging from her hat swung slowly, and curls of her white hair hung limp and loosely. Zelda still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that her old bodyguard was, well, _old_. Ancient, really, and the elder of the Sheikah people. It was yet another reminder that she was not of this world. Everyone in the room, sans Paya, was not of this time period.

She half expected to see the Champions appear as they had in their ghostly forms when Link had rescued her. Urbosa, Revali, Daruk, and Mipha. Was it foolish of her to pray for them every night? They were at rest now, but they had been her friends. Her family.

She wondered if they had any living descendants, like Impa and Paya. She wondered if there was a Gerudo woman with eyes like Urbosa, a Goron with Daruk’s shield, a Rito with Revali’s flight ability…

Her eyes shifted to Link. Had he and Mipha ever…? No, the thought was foolish. There’d had been no time. Mipha’s only living family remained in the form of her father, King Dorephan, and her brother, the young Prince Sidon.

“Are we all here?” Purah said, breaking Zelda out of her thoughts. The short, squat woman adjusted her glasses, searching the room for Paya. Paya lingered by the door, looking as though she wanted to be anywhere but Impa’s house. “I was sure Paya would make a run for it.”

“Not this time, she won’t,” Impa said, eyes opening. Fondness swirled in her eyes as her gaze landed on Zelda, Link, and Paya. “I’m afraid that this is a conversation I’ve long anticipated having, my dear granddaughter.”

Paya’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Grandmother, what do you mean?”

“You’ll see. Zelda.” Zelda looked up as Impa called her name. “Have you made your choice. Will you remain with the Sheikah...or will you seek your own destiny?”

Zelda had spent the last couple of months debating this. If she really, truly wanted to, she could hide in Kakariko Village for the rest of her life. She could change her name, and forge her own path as a regular Hylian woman. The royal family would die with her, and the world would be free to move on from the tragedy of Calamity Ganon’s awakening.

Or she could leave, and restore her birthright and home. Calamity Ganon’s hold on the castle was gone, though the world was still tainted by its touch. A few rogue Guardians still roamed the land, and they would need to be tracked down and dismantled. Not to mention the infestation of monsters that would need to be exterminated, and the work it would take to reunite the scattering of villages that had been born from the tragedy. It would take all of her life to complete this mission, and she couldn’t be sure that Hyrule would rise again in her lifetime. But she could plant the seeds of restoration, and her descendants would nurture it. Assuming she had descendants, of course.

But the first choice wasn’t really a choice. Zelda knew that the spirit of Hylia inside of her would die if she chose to ignore her destiny, if she chose to leave the corpse of Hyrule to the crows. All those innocent lives claimed by the chaos of Calamity Ganon’s awakening would be for naught if she tried to forget them.

“You are conflicted,” Impa murmured. “You are afraid to confront your demons. You are afraid to see the difficulties.”

“I am,” Zelda admitted. Impa abhorred lies, she knew, and could always tell when someone was lying. “I am afraid...but I will leave. I have to. I owe it to myself, and to my people.”

“You’ve made a good choice,” Impa said. “Purah, you have something to say?”

“I do,” Purah said, who had opened her mouth to speak the moment Zelda had started to. “I’m concerned about the Guardians. Most have shaken Calamity Ganon’s influence off upon its defeat, but some are still rogue. That is a problem our Princess will have to deal with when she starts her mission.”

“And you have a solution.”

“No, not yet,” Purah sighed. “I suppose you’ll just have to destroy them for now. But I’m working on a new invention, something to shut them down without blowing them up. It’ll allow you to avoid fights with them, and for me and Symin to tinker on them when we find them.”

“I suppose you want me to find you then, after a while,” Zelda said.

“Yes! I live in Hateno Village now. Link’ll show you where, but I’ll find you myself if you take too long,” Purah said. “I’d just hate for all my hard work to go down the drain anymore than it already has.”

“That is understandable, Purah,” Impa said. Her voice took on a dry tone. “I’m sure Zelda will keep that in mind as Guardian after Guardian attempts to cut her down.”

“Oh, you know what I mean! I’m just being optimistic, that’s all.”

“As always. Paya.” From her spot near the door, Paya flinched as her name was called, and she nervously slunk closer to her grandmother.

“Yes, Grandmother?”

“I never did think this day would ever come to pass,” Impa said. “That I would ever bestow such an honor upon your shoulders. I expected several generations to pass….but your parents were insistent on having just one child.”

“Grandmother?”

“The Princess seeks to restore her country and her throne. My previous incarnations have always accompanied the Princess and the Hero on their journies. We have always been intertwined.”

Impa glanced at Zelda and Link, who stood in rapt attention.

“But I cannot do it. Not this time. I’m far too old, and far too tired to snatch the Princess out of whatever perilous situation she manages to get herself into,” Impa continued. “Someone new will have to fill those shoes.”

Paya’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean—”

“I do.” Turning to Link, Impa said, “Teach her. You and I have trained in the ways of the Zora, the Gerudo, the Hyrulians, and the Sheikah. Teach her everything you know, so that she may become the Princess’s guardian.”

“Impa, are you sure?” Zelda spoke up. “She’s your granddaughter...I can’t guarantee her safety.”

“I know you can’t, but it’s time she grows up,” Impa said, eyeing a trembling Paya. “She is the closest thing you’ll ever have to a Sheikah guardian in this new lifetime, now that I can no longer fulfill this role. I would ask Purah to do it, but she’s always been a poor fighter.”

“Standing right here, sis.”

“My legacy calls for Paya,” Impa said. “I’ve dreamt it, just as I dreamed of Link’s awakening, and your rescue. As my dreams have yet to be disproven, I think I can safely assume that my dream of Paya becoming your guardian is accurate.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Paya finally said, looking quite stricken.

Impa regarded her for a moment. “What is it that you wish to say, Paya?”

“What if I don’t want to leave?” Paya said. “Out there, the world is bad. It’s dangerous, and it’s crawling with Yiga. I’m a target. Wouldn’t that make me dangerous to have around?”

“It will, but sense of danger is a good teacher,” Impa said. “You can do this, Paya. I’ve read your diary many times, and I know that you’ve dreamt of doing this.”

Paya’s face colored scarlet, and Zelda recalled her early declaration. She’d always dreamed of waiting on a princess….had this been what she meant?

“You may refuse,” Impa said. “And I will feel no disappointment. But I know you can do this...I know that this is your destiny. And I know that you don’t want to say no.”

Paya’s hands clenched into fists, and she refused to meet Impa’s gaze for a long time. Finally, she exhaled and her fingers uncurled.

“I’ll do it,” She finally said. Turning to Link, she bowed and said, “Teach me everything you know, please.”

Zelda caught the quick flash of his fingers as Paya bowed. ‘ _First rule, please don’t bow._ ’

“R-right, of course,” Paya said, springing back up.

Impa smiled, and then turned to Link. “And you, Hero? What will you do.”

‘ _Go with them._ ’

“And that is all you desire. Have you no other motives?”

‘ _No_.’

“Lies,” Impa said, shaking her head. “I know you do. You just don’t want to acknowledge them. But I will not press.”

Addressing all three of them, she said, “Take the rest of the day off, heroes. Pack for your journey, and prepare yourselves for what you might face, or what you might find, on your travels. All of you will confront your demons, and claim your rewards...but it’s best to get a good night’s rest before you go, yes?”

She dismissed them with a wave of her hand, claiming that she wanted to mediate. All but Purah left, and the elder sister regarded her younger sister with a quizzical look.

“You have never meditated in your entire life, Impa.”

“I know,” Impa sighed. “But I sense darkness shadowing their journey...I wish to know more, but my dreams reveal nothing. Something big is happening.”

“The Yiga are on the move,” Purah said. “We’ve warred with them for generations and many incarnations, but this is something new.”

“They have a new leader, but this is not something we haven’t experienced before,” Impa said, eyes troubled. “This new leader...they are something else. It frightens me.”

“Yeah,” Purah said, wringing her hands. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I’m sick but I managed to get this chapter out~ 
> 
> Please enjoy!


	9. The Journey To Lanayru (Pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very, very small spoilers for the Champions' Ballad.

She couldn’t sleep for the longest time, that night. 

 

 Zelda laid in Paya’s guest bed, tossing and turning underneath a thick quilt. At her insistence, Paya had left one candle lit for the night, and the weak flame cast jumping shadows on the wall. Outside, the rain from earlier still pounded, and a steady stream of rainwater had begun to run down the window next to Zelda’s bed. She found herself counting each raindrop that fueled the stream, thinking of her newest journey.

 

 It had been a long, long time since Zelda had set foot in the Zora Domain. Even before the tragedy, travels between Hyrule and the other domains had been rare. Unlike Link, Zelda hadn’t possessed the freedom to go wherever she wanted when she wanted to. Her duties often kept her preoccupied in Hyrule, though that was to be expected. She was  _ the  _ princess of Hyrule, the sole heir to the throne. She couldn’t afford to be reckless. Though Hyrule had maintained peaceful relations with the Zora, the Goron, and the Gerudo peoples, there was always a risk. 

 

 But those risks and the rules that prevented them had been thrown out of the window for necessity's sake. This new world did not abide by the rules Zelda had lived her life by. It was a fact that made her sad, as did it make her laugh. Rules had always made her chafe, and now she was living in a near lawless world. How funny.

 

 A clap of thunder followed by angry flash of lightning made her jump, and Zelda turned her back on the window. She should be sleeping, not reminiscing on her old life. 

 

_ It’s time to bury the past,  _ she thought to herself.  _ It’s time to bury my father. Bury my friends, and my old life.  _

 

__ But how could she now? She was embarking on a journey that would restablish everything she’d ever known, and that would require bringing up the past. She would spend the rest of her life rebuilding the world. Her world.

 

_ But I could make it different. Hyrule doesn’t have to be the same...I’m not the same. Hyrule and I are one in the same.  _

 

__ From across the room, Paya rolled over in her own bed, letting out a loud snore. Her white hair had been let loose in her sleep, and it curled over and around her face like an untamed bush. She looked innocent and unchallenged by the world outside. 

 

 “And yet you are meant to be my guardian,” Zelda whispered aloud. “How? What did Impa see in you that made her so sure?”

 

 Zelda was no one to judge. She’d spent a good portion of her life being judged unfairly by everyone around her, and now she was doing the same to Paya. But Paya was no Impa. Their personalities were on two different sides of a coin, and that was plainly evident. Yet they shared the same blood, and somewhere down the line, Paya had inherited Impa’s ancient prowess in the Sheikah guardian way. She had to, anyway, or it would be just Link keeping all three of them safe from danger when they left Kakariko Village. 

 

 Speaking of Link...her old friend had disappeared after their meeting with Impa. He’d always been reserved, but Zelda knew that he started disappearing when he was troubled. After they’d reunited with each other, Link had confessed to regaining more of his old memories. Some of them troubled him, and it was those memories that he skirted around. Zelda had not asked him of them. When he was ready to share, he would. 

 

 But her own curiosity could not be denied. How much did he remember? Did he remember his father? His mother? Did he remember Urbosa and her family? Daruk’s sweetheart and the child they had together? Revali’s family? His moments with Mipha? Did he even remember his own wedding, and the future he’d planned with his wife? She couldn’t fathom not remembering her own past, and her heart went out to her friend. 

 

 The rain outside picked up a little more, and rain pelted the window like a spray of pebbles kicked up by a horse. It reminded Zelda that instead of sleeping, she was sitting her musing over her life choices. She couldn’t afford to lose too much sleep -- on the road, Link was a busy traveler and they only stopped when her muscles were cramping too much to take on another mile. With the addition of Paya, their journey to Lanayru would be slowed. And then there was the matter of Paya’s training, and the fact that traveling up a mountain was never a fun trip. Yes, Zelda should savor every bit of sleep she could catch. 

 

 Bidding her thoughts to slow, Zelda rolled over and pulled the covers up under her chin. She closed her eyes and forced unconsciousness to fall over her, murmuring a small prayer against nightmares as sleep finally dragged her under. 

 

She dreamed of Urbosa. 

 

***

 

_   Heat stung Zelda’s face.  _

 

_  Without even opening her eyes, she knew she stood in the middle of the Gerudo desert. Opening her eyes revealed the golden sand beneath her feet, and the shining sun above her head. Dunes stretched for miles, but if she squinted hard enough, she could see the faint silhouette of the entrance to Gerudo Town.  _

 

_  A slight breeze picked up, and the skirts of her iconic white dress swirled with it. It had to be a dream then — the real thing was dirty and damaged beyond salvation. And no one in their right mind would wear such a thing in the middle of the desert, not if they feared sunburn and quick dehydration.  _

 

_  Suddenly, the breeze became violent, swirling sand into a large tornado. Zelda moved to cover her eyes as sand was flung about, hitting her full in the face. She kept her eyes covered until the wind suddenly died, and musical note chimed through the air. When she opened her eyes again, Urbosa stood before her.  _

 

_  Like in life, Urbosa stood tall and stately, with the headdress of the Gerudo Chief resting on her head. Her red hair was pulled back away from her face and neck, and her golden armor covered her from neck to toe. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and her lips were pulled into a frown. Her green eyes had never looked so intense, and a few blue will-o-wisps circled her form.  _

 

_  “Urbosa,” Zelda breathed.  _

 

_  “Zelda,” The familiar, unwavering voice of Urbosa was like a harsh slap and a warm hug to Zelda. It was a reminder that she was dead — that she would ever come to walk the face of this earth again — but she’d still managed to find her way into Zelda’s dreams. “I didn’t think you’d start your journey so soon.” _

 

_  “My journey?” Zelda echoed, thoughts escaping her.  _

 

_  “To restore Hyrule, little bird,” Urbosa gently reminded her. “I anticipated it, of course, but you’ve only returned to this world for a few short months. Is this a journey that you are ready for? Without my guidance, or any of the Champions to accompany you?” _

 

_  Squaring her shoulders, Zelda nodded fiercely. “Yes, I  _ have  _ to do this.” _

 

_ “I don’t doubt that,” Urbosa said, smile spreading across her face. “And you do have Link, the Hero Of Hyrule, to travel with you, for as long as he may wish to.” _

 

_  For as long as he may wish to. The words echoed around in Zelda’s head, reminding her that she knew nothing of Link’s true intentions. Since the day he’d been revived, Link had embarked on a quest given and ordered to him by his own past. That quest was over now, and he technically had no other obligation to her. And yet he was willing to travel with her, for now.  _

 

_  “Do not dwell on what I have said,” Urbosa said. “Whatever happens, you and Link are friends, and always will be. He would not be coming if he did not wish to.” _

 

_  Urbosa sighed and turned around, hands moving to her hips. After a moment, Zelda moved to join her at her side, following her gaze to the distant Gerudo Town.  _

 

_  “Is something the matter, Urbosa?” _

 

_  “Yes,” Urbosa said. “The world has gotten darker since we’ve been gone. My people have grown and changed after my demise, but an old enemy stalks them to their death. You and I know this enemy well.” _

 

_  “The Yiga,” Zelda murmured. “They killed a Sheikah woman when I arrived in Kakariko Village.” _

 

_  “And they will kill many more,” Urbosa murmured. “Their new leader feels slighted by every race in Hyrule, and she will stop at nothing to get her own, twisted revenge.” _

 

_  Suddenly, Zelda’s dream warped. Images of battle flashed through her vision, making her head spin.  _

 

_  She saw a Gerudo woman with a bandaged side and thigh slashing a Yiga Blademaster across his chest, a younger Gerudo girl glaring defiantly behind her.  _

 

_  She saw a group of Goron load a canon and shoot at an advancing army of Yiga soldiers.  _

 

_  She saw a quiver of Zora archers aim at invisible assassins, while they themselves were assaulted with shock arrows.  _

 

_  And then, finally, she saw a severe woman with a face scarred beyond repair grinning as she gutted a Gerudo, a Goron, and a Zora. When blood sprayed across her face, her gaze tore from her prey to look Zelda directly in her face.  _

 

_  “You’re next,” The woman whispered.  _

 

_    Zelda startled, clutching her chest. Urbosa looked down at her and shook her head.  _

 

_  “She threatens all of us,” Urbosa said. “Her brother was Master Kohga, and he was a threat on his own, but she is something else. She fights like the Yiga of Old.” _

 

_  “The Yiga of Old?” _

 

_  “The Yiga I used to fight when I was much younger,” Urbosa clarified. “They fought like Sheikah, but they knew no honor. They still don’t.” _

 

_  “What am I going to do? What are we going to do? They’re already attacking everyone, and I know that if I leave the village, they’ll be after me too,” Zelda said.  _

 

_  “You embark on your journey,” Urbosa said, as though the answer was simple. “You cannot allow yourself to be daunted by the Yiga, just as I could not allow you to travel without knowing of the dangers you will face. You are a smart girl, little bird, and you know defiance like no other person.” _

 

_  “Urbosa—” _

 

_  “I have not come to discourage you from your journey,” Urbosa said. “You are brave, Zelda, and you have faced much worse than the Yiga. We all have.” _

 

_  Her gaze darkened, and Zelda knew she was thinking of her final moments. Zelda took a deep breath, and then steeled herself. Urbosa was right — it would not do for her to be daunted by the Yiga. Her journey could not end before it had even begun. She had Link, the spirits of the Champions, and even Paya to back her up.  _

 

_  “I only ask that you help my people, when the time comes,” Urbosa said. “All of our fates are intertwined now. My descendants have even considered you, though briefly. The situation will get worse, and they know that.” _

 

_  “Descendants?” Zelda perked up. “You and Neveah had children?” _

 

_  “We did,” Urbosa said, nodding. “You remember my oldest, but barely. You were young when the two of you met, and by the time you came to recruit me, she’d gone and joined the military. But we had three more, and I left them and Neveah behind when I passed.” _

 

_ She closed her eyes, and Zelda knew the fact pained her. “You’ll meet who’s left. Buliara, Teake, Riju, Ashai, and Jewel. I’m sure you’ll recognize them on sight.” _

 

_  “I can’t wait,” Zelda said. “And what of Daruk and Revali? Do they have family they left behind? Is the ruling Zora family still the same?” _

 

_  “Why don’t you wait and find out?” Urbosa said. “I can’t give you all the answers...and you need to sleep.” _

 

_  Already, the edges of Zelda’s vision were darkening, and her dream was fading. When she opened her mouth to protest, to do anything if it meant staying with Urbosa, the Gerudo Champion disappeared in a swirl of sand, a faint smile on her face.  _

 

_  And Zelda’s vision went dark.  _

 

***

 “Princess.”

 

 Zelda answered with a groan, rolling over in her sleep and pulling the quilt over her head. Her action was met with a half-exasperated, half-amused sigh before the quilt was yanked off her body and tossed to the floor. 

 

 “I want to sleep too, but Impa says we shouldn’t waste too many hours in the day!” Paya chirped. When Zelda cracked an eye open, she could see that the Sheikah woman was already full dressed, and her traveling pack was strapped to her back. Her earlier reluctance still lingered in her eyes, but Zelda had no doubt that Paya had mused on it long enough to come to terms with her fate. 

 

 To uphold the old traditions...that was a supposed honor that no one could deny. 

 

 “The last time I checked, Impa isn’t embarking on an important journey,” Zelda murmured. “So she can't really talk, can she?”

 

 “Do  _ you  _ want to tell her that?” Paya said, placing a hand on her hip. 

 

 Zelda thought about it, but then decided that she wanted to keep her dignity. Impa used to be very good at nasty comebacks, and Zelda wasn’t eager to know what new ones she’d acquired over the past century. Instead, with great reluctance, she sat up in bed and stretched. Yawning, she watched as Paya took a satisfied step back and then offered her hand. Taking it, Paya pulled Zelda out of bed and onto her feet, leading her towards the vanity. 

 

 “I won’t doll you up today since we’ll be traveling, but is there anything else I can do for you?” Paya asked. 

 

Zelda took a look in the mirror, assessing her situation. Faint lines from the mattress marred her cheeks — signs of an unfitful sleep — and the braids Paya had done for her had held up throughout the night. Her lips were a little dry and her eyes were still crusted with sleep, but nothing else seemed out of order. Shaking her head, she turned to Paya and said, “I think I can skip on being vain today. I just need to get dressed, splash my face with some water, and then get outside.”

 

 “Are you sure?” Paya said, pawing at a comb she’d left out. “I did enjoy playing with your hair.”

 

 “When we’re in the Zora Domain, I promise you that you can do whatever you’d like,” Zelda said. “I anticipate it.”

 

 Paya beamed and backed off. “I’ll give you some privacy then. Meet me outside when you’re done?”

 

 Zelda gave her nod and watched Paya leave the house, shutting the door behind her. By the sounds of it, the rain had finally let up. This was good, Zelda had had quite enough of bad weather. 

 

 Her clothes were simple — a white tunic, a pair of beige trousers, and boots that were actually good for climbing. Her bag had been packed the night before with everything she could possibly need, including an empty journal she’d bought from a traveling vendor a few weeks ago. It’d been a long time since she’d had a diary, but it had also been a long time since she’d had anything worth talking about. She’d thought about cracking open this new one for the longest time, to confess all her fears, but something had stopped her. She didn’t want to write about the things she did when she was gone, and she didn’t want to write about how scared she was for fear it would prevent her from leaving the village. She wanted to pretend that she was brave for just a little while longer. 

 

 When she stepped out of the house, she found Paya waiting for her right on the porch. The sky outside was light, but a pack of dark, traveling clouds was inching its way across the heavens, promising rain again. Hopefully they would be well on their way to the Lanayru region before the storm finally broke. 

 

 Paya, noticing the clouds said, “I’m getting really sick and tired of this rain.”

 

 “Does it always rain here?” Zelda asked. 

 

 “Only enough to keep the crops growing,” Paya said. “Impa says it’s a bad omen, but I think it’s just the rainy season. Let’s stop talking about the weather, though. That gets boring.”

 

 She beckoned for Zelda to follow her off the porch and up the small path towards Impa’s house. There, Link stood in front of the two guards. In his hands was the Sheikah Slate, alive and glowing blue as he tampered with it. When they got closer, Zelda could see that he’d pulled up a map of the region, and was scrolling to the right. 

 

 “Are you plotting?” Zelda asked as she approached, peeking over his shoulder. Link paused, and signed with his free hand,  _ ‘Yes’ _ . He then tapped on the screen, pointing towards where the Slate had marked ‘Lanayru’. Zelda traced the distance between the village and the Lanayru region, heart sinking. 

 

 “That’s so far away,” She said. “It’ll take days to get there, a week at most.”

 

“Not to mention the fact that the Yiga are out there,” Paya murmured. “They’ll start hunting us the minute we leave this village.”

 

 “Then we have to hurry,” Zelda said. “We should make few stops and try to clear the journey in less than a week. Link?”

 

 The Hero reattached the Slate to belt and turned to her. Signing, he said,  _ ‘We can get there quicker than you think. I have done it before.’ _

 

 “Right. You had to have made it there in order to have saved Vah Ruta,” Zelda said, nodding. “How many days did it take you to get there?”

 

 Link winced and avoided her gaze. Stifling a sigh, Zelda said, “Well, we’ll just have to find a better route. Maybe we can find a few horses and make it easier on our legs. Paya, are there any stables around?”

 

 Paya jumped at her name, and then swiftly shook her head. “Not that I know of. I...I haven’t left the village in a long time.”

 

_ Of course you haven’t.  _ “Then we’ll just have to leg it.”

 

 “Legging it” didn’t sound appealing in the slightest, and Zelda found herself missing long rides with her horse. She missed the days when things, people, and places were more accessible, when danger didn’t stalk her every footstep. 

 

 Link nodded and turned to begin leading them out of the village. As they walked, a few Sheikah stopped what they were doing to stare at them. Zelda caught more than a few mournful glances, and her stomach churned. Paya had said her goodbyes to Impa earlier, but a quick glance behind her showed Zelda that the woman’s face was red and pinched. It was supposed to be an honor to serve the royal family of Hyrule, but Zelda knew just how nasty “honor” could be. 

 

 It was her “honor” to be the latest vessel of Hylia, to be responsible for the salvation of the world. It was Link’s “honor” to be the Champion of Hyrule and the Hero responsible for destroying the great darkness. It had been the other Champions’ “honor” to aid the Princess and the Hero in banishing evil. And all that honor had gifted Zelda a century of self-imprisonment, the loss of his memories and life for Link, and death to all the Champions. 

 

 If she could, she would’ve told Paya to stay home, where it was safe. She’d endure a verbal lashing from Impa if it meant sparing Paya a fate worse than death. 

 

 The first step outside the village was unceremonious. Their boots sloshed in the mud left over from the night’s rain, and the guards to the village bid them safe passage. And yet, the weight of the world seemed to fall onto Zelda’s shoulders, threatening to crush her. She wanted to turn tail and flee. She wanted to keep walking. 

 

_ I have no idea what I want,  _ she thought to herself. And the thought scared her. 

 

 For a long time, they traveled in silence. Gravel crunched underneath their feet, and was replaced with the sound of stomped on, wet grass when the traveler’s path beneath them grew faint. The path before them stretched on for miles, patchy in some places, and fully connected in others. When it split off into two different directions, Link led them down the dirt path to their right, and they descended down the mountain. According to the map, they’d be crossing through the wetlands on a straight path to the domain. It was the same route Link had chosen the first time, which made it the safest route by default. It would take them to the Lanayru region, but it would be another long stretch before they made it to the actual Zora Domain. The very thought sent waves of exhaustion shooting through Zelda, but there was nothing she could do about it. If she wanted to bring Hyrule back, she needed the Zoras. King Dorephan and King Rhoam’s relationship all those years ago had led to nothing but prosperity for Hyrule, and Zelda was determined to mend that relationship. Some of the older Zoras would be unhappy, no doubt, but they wouldn’t condemn her people to complete eradication, would they? 

 

 It wasn’t something Zelda wanted to think about, so she trudged along.

 

 By the time the sun had climbed high in the sky, Kakariko Village was far behind them. The three of them had come to walk side by side, with Link walking just a bit ahead in order to lead. Occasionally, he would unhook the Sheikah Slate from his side and check their progress. Sometimes he frowned and slowed his pace; other times he smiled and quickened his pace. As they walked, the terrain began to change drastically. The path underneath them disappeared, and was replaced with marshy ground. The trees began to crop up in abundance, and a few drops of rain began to sprinkle from the sky. At the rain, Paya sighed and grumbled under her breath, “Just how much rain are we going to get?”

 

 “Well, the map says we’re in the Lanayru Wetlands,” Zelda replied. “In order for it to be the wetlands, there would be have to be something here to make it….wet.”

 

 “Why do the Zora have to be a race of fish people? Why couldn’t they be a race of --  I don’t know -- bird people?”

 

 “That would be the Rito.” Up ahead, Link began to slow his pace, head moving from side to side. 

 

 “Um, how about horse people?”

 

 “That would be terrifying.” Link’s hand began to creep to the sheath of his sword, fingers curling around the blade’s handle. Narrowing her eyes, Zelda watched her friend closely. What did he hear? 

 

 “You’re right, that is kind of scary. But not as scary as sneeple.”

 

  Utterly bewildered, Zelda finally turned to give Paya a bemused look. “Sneeple?”

 

 “Snake people. Sneeple.”

 

 “That is….that is quite the portmanteau.”

 

 “I mean, we have bird people and fish people, so we can have snake people, right? You’re smart. Is it possible?”

 

 “I...don’t know? Evolution has yet to call for ‘sneeple’.”

 

 “Well, someone tell evolution that the time is right to make snee-- Get down!”

 

 Before Zelda could question Paya’s outburst, the Sheikah woman tackled her to the ground, knocking the breath from her. Zelda fell ungracefully into the mud, and above her, an arrow whizzed past and embedded itself into the nearest tree. The next arrow came to land just inches away from her face, and she gasped. Paya, who had landed on top of her, rolled to the side and hoisted Zelda to her feet. 

 

 “Run!” Paya squeaked, and she quickly took off running. Behind them, Link advanced on the sudden form of a red-clad assassin. The upside-down Sheikah eye on the assassin’s mask seemed trained on Zelda, and she hurriedly darted after Paya. 

 

 Paya tore through the forest like a madwoman, ducking under low-hanging branches and vaulting over fallen logs. Zelda followed with much less agility, branches snapping and whipping across her face while she tripped over the same logs. But all the while, Paya kept looking back to make sure that Zelda was following, displaying a surprising amount of endurance and speed. 

 

 Suddenly, Zelda had no doubts that Paya was meant to be her guardian. She was far, far less composed than Impa, but the two were almost evenly matched when it came to running away from danger really, really fast. 

 

 Only when her lungs were burning did Zelda finally ask for Paya to stop running. At her gasped command, Paya halted, bending over to clutch her knees and catch her breath. Zelda collapsed against the nearest tree, sucking in as much air as she could. She took deep breaths, determined to compose herself and assess the situation. 

 

 There was a downside to running blindly away from danger. She had no idea where she was, and she lacked Link’s Sheikah Slate to give her an answer. There was an old map in her pack, though, and she moved to fish it out. Not trusting the ground, she unrolled it against the smooth, dry bark of the tree and squinted. The script on the map was old and faded, which should have been expected. The Sheikah were ancient, and so was everything that belonged to them. She was a fool to have believed that they’d have a recently cartographed map laying around for her to use. 

 

 “Where are we?” Paya breathed, having finally caught her breath. Her breath still came out in huffs, and her face was scarlet. 

 

 “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I’m glad we didn’t make any turns, but we need to get back to Link.”

 

 “Oh no, we left him with that assassin!” Paya moaned. “We just left him, and I wasn’t thinking at all.”

 

 “Don’t panic,” Zelda said, turning around to assure her. “Link can take care of himself. You did you your job, and that was to keep me out of harm’s way. And we have a map, which means we have a good chance of getting out of here and finding Link.”

 

 “Okay, okay,” Paya said. Her voice still wavered, but she didn’t look three seconds away from a panic attack any more. “We just got to get out of here...wherever here is.”

 

 “Are you girls lost?” Both Zelda and Paya jumped as an unfamiliar voice cut through the clearing. 

 

 It was a feminine voice, but it was scratchy and strangely cold. The two of them looked around wildly, searching for the one who had spoken. 

 

 “Above you, darlings,” The voice called out again. Zelda looked up into the tree she was standing under and froze. 

 

   A woman dressed in red crouched lazily in the tree, turning a sickle over and over in her hands. Her white mask had been shifted to the side, revealing a face that was heavily scarred and obsidian-black eyes. The woman’s gaze shifted from her weapon to meet Zelda’s eyes, giving her a grin. 

 

_ “You’re next.”  _ It was the woman from Zelda’s dream. The Yiga woman who’d killed the Zora, the Goron, and the Gerudo liked they’d been nothing. But this was no dream. The woman in the tree was very, very real, and so was the sickle she held.    
  


 “I always wondered how we’d meet, dear Princess,” The Yiga Clan leader purred. “But I never imagined that it would be this satisfying.”

 

 At Paya’s gasp, Zelda suddenly noticed the dozens of white-masked faces appearing in the clearing. Everything was red in the edges of her vision, and she finally realized what had happened. 

 

 “It was a trap,” She said numbly. The map fell to the ground, and the Yiga woman in the tree laughed. 

 

 “How clever,” The Yiga Clan member murmured. “The world is going to miss a brain like yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this one! Guess who's back? 
> 
> CONSTRUCTIVE Criticism, Comments, and Kudos are always encouraged and excepted!


	10. The Journey To Lanayru (Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link, Zelda, and Paya attempt to escape a tricky situation using the power of extreme luck.

With a yelp and a puff of smoke, the archer assassin disappeared and reappeared about twenty feet away. 

 

 Gritting his teeth, Link switched from his sword to his own finely crafted bow. He’d put it through the ringer more than once, and the fragility of the bow’s back was vaguely present. It wouldn’t last for much longer, he reckoned that he had a few more hunts in it before it finally snapped. 

 

 But that didn’t matter. What mattered was whether or not it would strike true. Pulling the arrow back with calloused fingers, Link let fate decide where it hit. 

 

 He was pleased to see a perfect bull’s eye. The assassin’s body hit the ground with a soft thump, limbs sprawled. Link didn’t dwell on the image, turning on his heel after a quick scan of his surroundings. 

 

 In this past few weeks, he’d learned that Yiga assassin’s were never alone. They were quite determined to kill him, and he was traveling with the Princess now, who was also on their kill list. Paya wasn’t anyone important to them, but she was still Sheikah and that was cause enough to want to kill her. 

 

 With that thought in mind, Link turned on his heel and darted into the woods. 

 

 Even after spending a century laying dormant in an ancient Sheikah chamber, Link’s senses remained at the top of their game. As he moved, his eyes saw the subtle signs indicating a disturbance in the natural order of the woods. He noted the crushed grass, the light print of a boot, the broken branches and snapped twigs. His mind painted a picture of Paya and Zelda flying through the woods away from the threat. 

 

 As smart as Zelda could be...she had a tendency to make some very ignorant, very impulsive choices. His memory refreshed itself, recalling another time when Zelda had run blindly away from a threat, only to find herself cornered by two Yiga assassins with cruel sickles. Had it not been for him, there would’ve been an early end to the Princess of Hyrule’s life. It had also been one of the first times when he saw genuine, appreciative respect in her eyes. They’d promised not to mention the incident to King Rhoam, both knowledgeable of the fact that Rhoam’s overwhelming concern for his daughter would not end well for Link. Hero or not, Link hadn’t been above punishment. 

 

 Shaking his head, Link banished the thought and the memory and kept going. Now was not the time to get lost in the past. He’d been doing that a lot lately — getting lost in the past. He felt as though he always had one foot in this new present, and the other foot in his dead past. He’d been eager to leave Hyrule because for every ruined building he saw, his mind conjured new memories. He’d found himself on the doorstep to his mother’s house. 

 

 There had only been a doorstep left, and the rusted, broken down body of a Guardian sitting in the ruins of it. He’d left before his mind could torture him with memories of his mother’s presence. 

 

 He followed the signs of panicked running until he was well into the forest undergrowth, bushes and tall grass scratching at his legs. The ground underfoot was dryer and less marshy than the rest of the wetlands -- an effect of the tall trees’ canopying. A wall of overgrown, wild bushes stopped him, but the hole blasted through the wall by two small bodies was unmistakable. 

 

 Another unmistakable fact was that he was not alone. 

 

 Beyond those bushes was something bad. He could hear the muffled breaths of dozens of people and the movements they made were as loud as thunder to him. He’d always had a supernatural sense for danger, as though Hylia had blessed him with the ability to always discern friend from foe. Not that he was complaining, of course. 

 

 He knew that beyond those bushes was Zelda and Paya. He also knew that beyond those bushes was over a dozen Yiga assassins and two Yiga Blademasters. And there was something else in the tree…

 

 Trusting his stealth, he lowered himself to the ground and peeked through the hole.

 

***

 

 Somehow, Paya had found herself by Zelda’s side. 

 

 None of the assassins surrounding them protested when she moved. They only watched her with their cold, faceless stares. The woman in the tree watched her, though, but her eyes were all for the Princess. 

 

 Paya had never seen eyes like that. Eyes alight with madness, but dark with evilness. A face that was like her’s, but twisted and severe. 

 

_  “All Yiga come from us,” Impa had murmured. “They begin with us...and they will end with us. So long as the Sheikah survive, the Yiga will thrive.” _

 

 Not even Impa was old enough to remember a time when the Sheikah and the Yiga were one, but she’d spoken with heavy pain and Paya had realized that her grandmother had seen many friends and family turn on her. As a guardian for the royal family, Impa had been tasked with keeping the princess safe from all who wished her harm, and that included the Yiga. 

 

 Paya wondered how many of the Yiga Impa had cut down, only to remove their masks and recognize them as a cousin, a friend, an aunt. A lover. 

 

_ “Grandmother, what was Grandfather like?” _

 

_  “He was a good man...until he wasn’t.” _

 

__   Paya’s hand curled into a fist. She was an inexperienced weakling of a woman tasked with helping to protect one of the most important people in the world, and she had failed at that. Even if Link managed to find them again, there was no way he’d be able to fight this many Yiga at once and win. And it didn’t take a genius to guess that the woman in the tree was their leader, the most powerful Yiga of them all. Impa’s evil counterpart. 

 

 Her legs shook and her knees knocked together. She wasn’t brave. She was a fool. No, she was the queen of fools. 

 

 No one seemed surprised when she sank to her knees, the muddy ground schelching underneath her legs. Instead, the woman in the tree laughed. 

 

 “Poor thing,” She cooed. “You must be terrified. I don’t blame you, this is a truly unfortunate way to go.”

 

 Zelda remained standing, back straight and neck craned upwards to look the Yiga Clan Mistress in the eye. Her hands were curled into the fists, but Paya could see that her fingers still twitched with fear and nervousness. But her anxiety was held behind a mask of defiant anger, and she looked as though she could take on the world. The map she’d dropped laid at her feet, but she paid it no mind. 

 

 Paya wondered if she’d learned that in court. Impa had once indulged one of her many questions about the royal family regarding the usage of mental masks. 

 

_ “Everyone in court is a liar,” Impa said. “Zelda was one of the biggest one’s I knew, triumphed only by Link and the King himself.” _

 

_  “What do you mean ‘everyone is a liar’? A King can’t lie to his subjects.” _

 

_  “Oh, but he did. When Calamity Ganon first began to stir, I’d never seen a more vulnerable man. But he put on his mask and greeted the world like it was nothing. He did his best to show no fear, and so did the Princess and the Hero. They had their cracks of course -- Rhoam panicked when his daughter couldn’t summon her power, Zelda cried when she couldn’t do her only task, and Link became mute. But they were very good at sealing those cracks.” _

 

_  “That sounds really sad, Grandmother.” _

 

_  “Yes, but if they had showed their fear, then there would’ve been no world for you and I. Remember that, Paya.” _

 

__ Paya was not fearless, that much was obvious. She was impulsive, and a bit of a wreck. Her left hand clutched the grass, squeezing the moisture out of the clump. Her right hand closed around a considerably sized rock. 

 

 When Zelda suddenly began to speak, the gears in Paya’s brain began to turn. 

 

***

 

 “Who are you?” Zelda asked. Her voice came out unnaturally strong and forced, but it did not waver. She straightened her posture and forced her hands to close into fists. Her fingers still trembled, but that couldn’t be helped. 

 

 “Who am I?” The woman echoed. She moved to swing upside down from the tree, the tip of her sickle coming to rest just at Zelda’s chin. “I’m very tempted to say something cliche such as ‘I’m your worst nightmare’, but I’m not sure you’d appreciate the joke.  _ I  _ am Mistress Aaya, the new leader of the Yiga.”

 

 “New?” Zelda repeated. She hoped her stalling wasn’t obvious. She hoped Mistress Aaya was one of those villains that liked long monologues and romantic walks on the beach. 

 

 “Yes, ‘new’,” Mistress Aaya said, face darkening. “My brother, Master Kohga, was the leader before me. But he recently met his end.”

 

 “I-I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

 “Please. You hang out with his murderer for fun.” Mistress Aaya’s jaw twitched, but she kept talking. “The Gerudo orchestrated his murder, and they will pay dearly for it. Though I suppose my brother had always been foolishly ambitious -- he stole the Thunder Helm from their Chief and they wanted it back. Except they didn’t fight fair. They decided to sic the damn Hero after us.”

 

 Zelda was reminded of her dream with Urbosa. Reminded of the fact that the Gerudo, the Zora, and even the Gorons were in trouble. Did it all stem back to petty revenge, or was it something worse?

 

 “Your Hero murdered everyone and anything in his path. And then he murdered my brother. I became the leader to a broken clan,” Mistress Aaya said. “It was the last straw.”

 

 Master Kohga’s murder had been the last straw, meaning that this all stemmed from something greater than vengeance. But what did the Zora and the Gorons do to deserve murder? Link was being hunted because he’d murdered their previous leader. Zelda was being hunted because she stood in their way. Paya was being hunted because she was Sheikah, and that was cause enough. But King Dorephan had never been too deeply entangled with the Yiga, and the Gorons had always been keen to stick to themselves unless they were needed. 

 

 Zelda wracked her brain for any ideas, but found nothing. She doubted she would live long enough to get a straight answer. 

 

 “I spent months bringing my clan back up from the ground,” Mistress Aaya continued. “And I weeded out the weak and the traitorous faster than my brother could’ve done. He always had such blind faith in his clan...I wonder if you’d be the same?”

 

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

 “Yes, you do. You’re embarking on this journey to recreate Hyrule without even knowing if your people still trust you. If they still have faith in you. I mean, you let them die all those years ago, right?”

 

 Zelda felt herself lock up. It was clear, obvious manipulation, but that didn’t mean it went over her head. Zelda had not seen many Hylians since she’d been brought back. She had no idea what her people thought about her, if they even thought of her at all. When she stepped out into the real world, she would be staring into a sea of unfamiliar faces that had never lived underneath the monarchy. 

 

 She was a queen without a country, a castle, or subjects. She’d never heard of an emptier title. 

 

 “Interesting,” Mistress Aaya said, watching her face. “The thought never did occur to you, did it? And they call you smart. Well, it’s no matter. You’re never going to have the chance to do what you set out to accomplish, anyways.”

 

 Mistress Aaya’s voice took on a pitying tone, and the scars on her face stretched as she frowned. It looked more like a grimace. 

 

 Faster than Zelda’s eyes could follow, Mistress Aaya pulled herself back upright and hopped down from the tree, coming to stand in front of Zelda. All around them, the Yiga assassins began to advance, pulling out all kinds of torturous devices that Zelda wanted nowhere near her body. Mistress Aaya’s blade returned to her throat, and pressed gently. 

 

 “I’ll make it quick and painless, dear,” She cooed. 

 

 And then the arrow came flying. 

 

***

 Link watched as the scarred woman jerked back, hand flying to her left shoulder. The arrow had buried itself thickly in her deltoid, and at the same time, his bow finally snapped. Perhaps he’d underestimated it’s lifespan. 

 

 But there was one thing he’d never underestimated in his life, and that was his way with the sword. 

 

 Like some wild, deranged beast, Link burst out of the bushes and cut down the nearest Yiga assassin. By the time they’d crumpled to the ground, Link had already pounced on the next. He spared a glance at Zelda and Paya, praying that they hadn’t been surrounded yet. 

 

***

 

 It was funny how situations could quickly spin out of control. 

 

 Paya watched the Yiga clan leader stumbled backwards, clutching her wounded shoulder. For a moment, her fingers closed around the shaft, but they quickly fell away. She seemed to realize that removing the arrow would make things worse. 

 

 She also seemed to remember that the Princess was still her target. With a noise that was akin to a snarl, Mistress Aaya lunged at the Princess. 

 

 To her credit, Zelda had the skill and the grace to dive to her left, effectively dodging the attack. Turning to Paya, who was still on the ground, she said, “Let’s move!”

 

 Paya scrambled to her feet, boots slipping in the mud. She held onto her rock, raising it as all hell seemed to break loose. Somewhere behind her, Link was cutting down Yiga after Yiga, trying to create an opening for all three of them to escape, but it wasn't’t working. They just kept coming, and Mistress Aaya was recovering. Turning on her heel, she regarded the three of them with a tight smile. 

 

 “Well, you’ve made my job a little easier by coming together like this,” She said. “Though the arrow wasn’t appreciated.”

 

 She hardly spared Paya a glance, giving the Hero and the Princess all of her attention. The remaining Yiga assassins and the Blademasters rose up behind Mistress Aaya, slowly advancing on the three of them. There was no way any of them were getting out of this alive. No way. 

 

 And yet, when Link cut down the last Yiga assassin in their way and started running, Paya found it in herself to follow. This time, she ran as though a Guardian was targeting her. She ran as though the little red dot had just begun to blink. 

 

 She ran as though the Guardian had just finished charging and was releasing a bolt of hot, deadly energy at her from it’s eye. 

 

 As they ran, Link loaded another bow and turned every few seconds to release an arrow straight into the eye of their pursuers. He never hit Mistress Aaya, as if some part of him knew that he’d just be wasting an arrow. He focused on the assassins who got too close, the ones who were a hair’s breadth away from hacking into Paya’s neck or Zelda’s head.

 

 They ran fast and hard, and Paya’s lungs began to cry out for fresh, unmoving air. Her legs had begun to cramp, and she saw Zelda stumble in the corner of her once or twice. And for all the assassins Link felled, Paya didn’t dare look back and assess the situation. 

 

 Maybe she should’ve. 

 

 A hand found itself in her hair, yanking her to the ground. With a cry, Paya fell backwards and into Mistress Aaya’s whose blade came to rest at her throat. 

 

 “You’re not even that important, but I’ll enjoy killing you anyways,” She hissed. 

 

 When her blade began to press harshly at her throat, Paya began to panic. She flailed, she hit, and she pushed back against the sickle even when the carved blade cut at her fingers. She elbowed the shaft of the arrow, and Mistress Aaya let out a low, pained groan. When she felt the blade cut into her throat, letting her blood leak out of a deepening cut, Paya raised her right hand and slammed the rock into Mistress Aaya’s temple. 

 

 With a curse, the blade suddenly disappeared and Paya heaved in a desperate, deep breath. The rock in her hand was bloody, but she didn’t even know if that was her blood or Mistress Aaya’s. She didn’t stay to find out. 

 

Still clutching the rock, Paya sprinted after the rapidly moving forms of her friends, the footsteps of the remaining four assassins pounding after her. 

 

 One arrow was released. She heard a cry and then the thump of a body hitting the ground. 

 

 Another arrow flew. She heard the slump of a body against a tree. 

 

 Two more flew. Both hit their mark.

 

 The three of them burst out of the forest and ran up their original path. By then, Paya’s lungs had already begun to plot her murder, but she didn’t stop until Zelda tripped and hit the ground hard. Both Link and Paya skidded to a stop, both hauling Zelda to her feet and urging her to run for just a little while longer. Breaths ragged, the three of them resorted to a jog, which slowed into a walk. 

 

 When they’d left the forest far behind and the sun had begun it’s slow descent into the corners of their vision, Link deemed it safe to stop. Without hesitation, Paya let herself fall to the ground. Her fingers burned with cuts, and the wound on her throat felt worse. 

 

 Slinking his pack off his shoulder, Link rummaged through it and brought out rolls of bandages and salves Paya recognized. She didn’t argue when he asked to look at her throat, and she was proud to say that the redness in her face was not because of how close he was. 

 

 There was the familiar burn of the salve across the wound, and then cold numbness. He bandaged the wound tight enough to stop bleeding, but loose enough to give her room to breathe. 

 

 He turned to Zelda next, but was met with several, “I’m fine”'s and “Let’s just find a safe place"'s. 

 

  And then it started raining, which was just the cherry on Paya’s crappy cake. After a few more feet of forced, tired walking, the three of them ducked underneath a nearby tree and chose to wait it out. 

 

They stared out into the sheet or rain, occasionally looking to the left or right and checking for Yiga or monsters. For a long time, no-one said anything. 

 

 Then, finally, Zelda murmured, “When do we get to the Zora Domain?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the tenth chapter already??? I'm kind of proud! 
> 
> I'm also excited to start writing for Sidon, who will be introduced next chapter! See you all next Saturday!
> 
> Remember: I appreciate and adore kudos, comments, and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. All of these help me write more than you think :)


	11. The Journey To Lanayru (Pt. 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey ends.

The weight of the sword in her hand was unnatural.

Paya took a look at the way Link was holding his, the Master Sword of legend balanced perfectly in his calloused grip. It looked nothing like how she was holding the simple Traveler’s Sword -- awkward, shaky, and two seconds away from dropping it.

A couple feet away sat Zelda, who looked deep in thought. Her draw brow was knit, and she stared off into space. The Sheikah Slate was cradled in her lap, the screen displaying a map of the Lanayru region, though she paid it no mind. All three of them knew that they’d only just started crossing borders, and it would be another two days before they got a glimpse of true Zora territory. But despite that knowledge, all three of them were glad to be far, far away from the Wetlands forest, and the incident they’d experienced.

Since the incident, they’d seen no Yiga, or anyone for that matter. The paths had been unnervingly empty, and the horizon greeted them with several large mountains that they’d have to climb soon enough. The weather had been clear, though, but storm clouds were constantly rolling in, hovering over their heads in a most threatening manner.

“Focus,” Came Link’s quiet rasp. His voice hurt to hear, and Paya imagined it hurt him to speak. His vocal chords seemed to be raw from gentle use, and rusty from disuse, if that was even possible. Paya was glad that she knew Hyrulian sign language, a talent that seemed useless up until she’d met Link. Impa had insisted upon her learning it, and Paya now realized why.

She watched Link slide into a simple stance, holding the sword before him as though he were getting ready to strike down an enemy. He made it seem effortless, without requiring a single ounce of strength, but Paya could see the muscles in his arm go taut. She gave her own arms a glance and stifled a sigh. Manual labor, such as keeping the house clean, had been her fortee back at home. A broom hadn’t weighed nearly as much as a blade of steel did, and it was beginning to show. But Link wouldn’t leave her alone until she’d completed the motion.

Motion. That was all they’d been doing in between miles. After the attack, Link had decided that it was very, very important that she learned to defend herself as soon as possible. Cracking Yiga Clan leaders in the face was good and all, but she was sure that she’d only gotten the upper hand because Mistress Aaya had already been injured. Had it not been for the arrow in her shoulder...well, Paya would not be here. As if reminding her of its’ presence, the wound on her throat throbbed painfully. Had Mistress Aaya been able, Paya would’ve been like that Sheikah woman who had died two months ago. Throat cut open. Eyes still open wide.

“I don’t think it’s going to rain today,” Zelda suddenly said, voice like thunder in the silence. When neither Paya nor Link graced her with a verbal answer, she turned and watched them practice sliding into different movements.

Paya learned that the Gerudo and the Hylians hold swords differently from each other. There’s a dip to the wrist in the former, and Link informs her that their swords -- their scimitars -- are curved and require a little tweaking to the stance. He also told her that the way she’s holding the sword is going to give her muscle pain.

She watched him spin on his heel and swing. He repeated the motion twice, and then motioned for her to try. The spin was easy, the swing was not. The first swing knocked her off balance, and she soon learned that dirt didn’t taste good. Link patiently waits for her to get to her feet and try again.

And again. And again.

By the time she’d perfected the motion, Link informed Zelda that it was time to keep going, and they packed up. For the first mile, Paya held onto the sword, staring at it’s blade. She was supposed to be a master at wielding it, one day. She was supposed to be a Sheikah Guardian, a title that had not been upheld by anyone since the start of the new century. She stared hard at the blade, watching her reflection warp in the metal. Or maybe that was the tears threatening to spill over that spoiled her vision.

She jumped when Zelda’s hand landed on her shoulder, the Princess patting her a few times to get her attention.

“Take a look, Paya,” Zelda said, jerking her head to the right. The motion loosened a few curls from her ponytail, the dark coils bouncing freely. Paya followed the movement, eyes widening a little at the sight.

It was a field of flowers, nothing Paya hadn’t seen before. But the flowers were cupped and new. Blue, dark and in full bloom. The flower cradled a cluster of dark seeds in each cup. But scattered between the flowers were taller flowers with blue and white petals. They poked out in between the others as though they were hiding, requiring an attentive eye to see. Zelda seemed transfixed, as though she’d never seen nothing like it.

“Silent Princess,” She murmured. “I’ve never seen them grow out this far.”  
  
“Silent Princess?” Paya echoed. “What are those?”

“The blue and white flowers,” Zelda explained. “I’ve only ever seen them grow in Hyrule...they only ever would grow in Hyrule.”

“Why?”

“I don’t really remember why,” Zelda said. “They would always perish when we tried to domesticate them too. They couldn’t be potted.”

Paya watched as Zelda drifted away, wading through the field of flowers until she came to stop in front of a tall Silent Princess. She plucked it from the ground, wiping dirt off the roots, and then sought out another. She came back to Paya’s side with two of the flowers, offering one of them.

“You saved my life from that assassin back in the Wetlands,” Zelda explained when Paya shot her a puzzled look.

“Then I lead you into an ambush,” Paya said. Shame colored her ears red. “Which was worse than just one assassin.”

Zelda hummed and simply shook the flower. When Paya still refused to take it, she stepped forward and tucked it underneath the hand holding Paya’s hair up, trapping it in her hair. She put her own flower behind her ear and simply said, “I give credit when it’s due. Regardless of what happened afterwards, you still saved my life.”

Before she could protest anymore, Link suddenly broke into a run. Exchanging worried looks, the two tore after him.

Link climbed up the steep slope of the hill in front of them, stopping with his hand pulling out his bow. An arrow was notched by the time Zelda and Paya caught up with him, and they followed the position of his aim.

Down below was a bridge with two, glowing outposts. It was surrounded by dark, murky water and the mountain they’d been scaling for the past few days. But there was a certain feel in the air, as though something really, really wrong had happened.

Embedded in the ground next to Link’s foot was an arrow that smelled like ozone. It was clear that the sight of it bothered Link to some degree, and he slowly began to make his way down the steep hill. Paya gripped the handle of her sword and led Zelda down after him.

The closer they got to the water, the more shock arrows they found. Most were stuck in the ground, having burned away the grass surrounding it. But that wasn’t all they’d saw. They saw scatterings of scales, teeth, and blood between arrows and discarded spears and tridents. Zelda got tangled in a hidden net, requiring the assistance of Paya to untangle her feet. In addition to the slash Paya made to cut Zelda free, there was several jagged slashes marring the netting.

They walked on a battlefield. As they stepped closer to the light of the bridge, the reddish undertone of Link’s hair began to make itself known.

The light of the bridge also showed them the dozens of Zora bodies littering the bridge. The smell of rotting fish assaulted Paya’s nose, and her vision blurred at the stench. Zelda moved to cover her mouth, eyes widening, and Link paled. It had been a slaughter, and the smell of burning flesh was proof enough. As fearsome as the Zora could be, they had always been susceptible to electricity, and whatever enemy had attacked them knew that.

Paya’s stomach twisted. She knew who’d attacked them. The Gerudo were known for the production of shock arrows, but they’d never quarreled with the Zora. Paya had heard rumors that the Yiga had fought their way into the Gerudo Desert decades ago, which meant that they had access to those supplies. And they’d used them to murder the Zora.

Paya was still deep in her thoughts when a dark shape beneath the water below began to move. In fact, she was still very deep into her thoughts until cold, wet metal came to rest against the back of her neck.

“Don’t move,” An icy voice commanded.

At the same time, Link whipped around and pulled the arrow back. His eyes widened as he recognized whoever was standing behind Paya and the arrow went wide, clearly missing its intended target.

“Link?” The voice said, sounding considerably less icier. The cold metal left Paya’s neck, and she whirled around.

The Zora that stood behind her was easily three times her size. His scales were red, but yellow bioluminescent lights danced underneath the scales on his head, arms, and legs. The golden, slitted eyes on the sides of his head opened wide, and a flash of sharp teeth could be seen when his lips pulled into the smallest of genuine smiles. His clawed hand gripped the staff of his trident, which was still dripping wet. The other hand clutched the bunched up end of a net, which he clearly would’ve used on their sorry trio had been a threat.

Link offered a crooked smile, lowering his bow and mouthing ‘sorry’. The Zora shook his head, head tail swinging with the motion. He opened his mouth to say more, but he noticed Zelda.

For a long time, they stared at each other. And then the large Zora broke out into a huge smile and laugh, moving faster than Paya and Link could register. Zelda squealed as she was suddenly lifted three feet off the ground, smothered in a big embrace.

“Zelda! It’s been forever!” The Zora exclaimed.

“Yes,” Zelda wheezed. “It’s nice to see you too...Sidon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There won’t be an update next Saturday due to mid quarters!


	12. The Trouble With Electricity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the mind of a prince.

Sidon hadn’t been happy in a long time.

These days, happiness was a rare thing. It was hard to be happy when the bodies of your friends floated behind you in a river that you’d used to swim in as a child. It was hard to be happy knowing that you’d be one of the Zora tasked with retrieving those bodies and delivering the news to grieving families about their deaths.

No one had anticipated the Yiga having Shock Arrows. Shock Arrows weren’t anything new; the Lynel that terrorized them used them primarily. The Yiga were originally from the Gerudo Desert, and Gerudo Town was responsible for the manufacturing of those arrows. Had Sidon been really angry, he might’ve started pointing fingers at the Gerudo...but he knew that was irrational. Their leader was still a child, and word on the wind told him that they’d been getting their fare share of raids and attacks from the Yiga. There’d been a large battle between the Gerudo and the Yiga recently, with casualties on both sides.

Sidon had been young when he’d first met Urbosa, the former Gerudo Champion and Chief of Gerudo Town. He’d been nothing but a whelp, but he still remembered the way she fought and commanded lightning. He remembered that it had scared him.

He’d felt as scared as the day he’d seen Urbosa fight when the hailstorm of Shock Arrows descended upon him and his friends -- his army. And now they were dead and he was still alive.

If Mipha had been here, what would she of said? Would she have turned the tides of battle, or would Sidon be forced to fish her body from the river too?

What unpleasant thoughts.

“Sidon? How is your father?” Zelda’s voice brought him back to the present.

He, Zelda, Paya, and Link were walking the last of the distance from the river to the Zora Domain. Sidon had swam most of the way there, careful to keep an eye on how his friends were doing as they scaled the mountain just as he’d done for Link earlier. They’d done alright on their own, and that had done something for Sidon’s nerves. He was tired of having to look over his shoulder, tired of having to watch his friends’ backs. It shouldn’t have to be that way...but that’s how it was.

“My father? Oh, he’s big,” Sidon joked, smiling when Zelda laughed. “He’s fine, if you’re asking.”

Stressed out, but fine. His father had maintained a relatively peaceful rule over the Zora since the tragedy, and this was the first major crisis that broke the peace. King Dorephan was a competent leader, though, and the Yiga had yet to come close to wasting them all.

They could kill as many Zora outside of the Zora Domain as they liked; they’d never get inside. The Zora Domain had been a military base in the past, and even though it acted as a city for the Zora population now, it’s true purpose still worked. It was easy to defend, and well-stocked with everything the Zora militia needed to keep their enemies at bay. It would have to hold until they found a way to get rid of Yiga permanently.

“Good. I had hoped to speak with him when we arrive,” Zelda said. “We have business to discuss, if he is fit for speaking that is.”

“What kind of business are you talking about?” Sidon asked. If he had eyebrows, he would’ve raised one. “You know, I am a prince. Technically, I have the authority to listen to what you have to say.”

“It’s about Hyrule,” Zelda said carefully. Sidon could see the hesitation punctuating her words, but he didn’t comment. “I need some help.”

“What kind of help?”

“The nonviolent kind,” Zelda said. “I need support, really. You see, Hyrule isn’t what it used to be. We’re nothing but scattered, near nomadic tribes with little to no allegiance to each other. Not to mention that the Guardians are still hunting us.”

“Ah, you want to bring your kingdom back from ruin.”

“Precisely. That’s what I want to do...but the Yiga seem determined to kill me before I do anything.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, we’re all on the Yiga’s hit list. And a common enemy makes a common cause,” Sidon said, placing a hand on the princess’s shoulder. Princess. Or was she a young queen? “I’m sure my father will be willing to lend an ear to you when we arrive.”

“....does King Dorephan have ears?”

“Priorities, Zelda. Priorities.”

Behind them walked Link and Paya, who were just as quiet as they’d been when Sidon first arrived. Then again, he’d threatened to kill the Sheikah woman and Link was selectively mute, so he guessed he shouldn’t expect much chatter. Not to mention the bandage around the Sheikah woman’s throat, which might’ve rendered her mute too. If they wanted to talk, they would.

But Sidon couldn’t deny that their silence unnerved him. It was like the calm before a thunderstorm, complete with deadly lightning that made Zora mothers usher their children out of the pool. It was like that strange, quietness that had hung in the air moments before his Zora soldiers had been cut down with arrows.

Needless to say, he was glad to see the Zora Domain right ahead of him. Picking up his pace, he led the three past the two Zora guards and into the city proper.

“So it’s my father you want to see first, right?” He said aloud. He pretended not to notice Zelda slipping and nearly falling on the wet tile that made up the city’s roads. “Or would you like to rest first? I imagine you’re tired.”

“King Dorephan first,” Zelda said, taking a few, careful steps. Her boots squeaked but didn’t give way underneath her. “If he’ll have me.”

“Oh, he’ll have you,” Sidon reassured her. “But at least let me get your friends settled. Or do you need them for your meeting?”

Zelda turned and regarded both Link and Paya. “Do you want to come or…?”

“A bed sounds really, really nice right now,” Paya murmured. Her voice was high-pitched, but it carried a rasp that didn’t sound pleasant at all. “Is there anyone who can check out my throat?”

“Yes. Let me get you settled in one of the palace apartments and send a doctor your way.” He knew exactly who’d he send — Mia was a Nurse Shark that used to treat him when he was younger. She now revolved around the king and his health since he was so old, but Sidon was sure she’d spare a minute to check out Paya. “Link?”

A small shake of the head was Link’s answer.

“So it’s just you,” Sidon said, turning back to Zelda. “Well, let's get on then.”

Zoras regarded them curiously as they walked through the city, noting the way they dressed, they way they acted, and what they carried with them. By the flaring of their fins and the bioluminescence bouncing off the slick tiles, Sidon guessed that they were looking for danger. Zoras glowed when their emotions got to high, but it was the emotions that determined the color. Pink was for happiness, yellow for terror, and red for anger. The color of the sunset bounced all around Sidon, a mix of emotions that worried him.

He made a mental note to himself to stop and explain the situation later and continued walking.

When he made it to the throne room, the dozens of Zora guards regarded him and his small party, silently demanding an explanation.

“Her Royal Highness Princess Zelda, the Hero Of Hyrule, and Paya,” Sidon announced. “The Princess seeks an audience with my father, and her friends seek rest. They were granted entry by me and my authority.”

“The king will not be disturbed,” The first guard said. Modeled after a Great White, he was bigger than Sidon and certainly more intimidating and more vicious looking, but he spoke with the smoothness and properness of highborn Zora. “He is in a meeting with his advisors.”

“For how long?” Sidon asked, exchanging a look with Zora.

“My prince, it would be best to try again in the morning,” The guard said, sounding apologetic. “They’ve been speaking since dawn, and they haven’t even had a recess.”

“Tell my father that I was here,” Sidon said, trying not to look disappointed. “And that we’ll be housing our visitors until he can speak.”

“Yes, my prince.”

The guard turned on his heel and entered the throne room. Sidon watched him leave, sighing and turning to Zelda. “I hope you anticipated this.”

“I did,” Zelda said. “Hopefully I’ll get that audience in the morning, but what could your father possibly be talking about he requires a full day of meetings? Besides the Yiga attacks, of course.”

“My father is a planner. Most likely, he is coming up with ways to rid us of the Yiga and their attacks. Problem is, most of his advisors are old, and so is their advice,” Sidon said. “I’ve told him many times to consider changing up his perspective, but he refuses.”

“It’s alright, Sidon,” Zelda said. “How about those apartments, and treatment for Paya? I’m sure they weren’t postponed.”

Sidon waved over a nearby guard, instructing him to get the Princess and her friends settled. “And call Mia over too to check out Paya. Ask her to come as fast as she can.”

Nurse Shark Zora were naturally slow and sluggish, and Mia was no exception.

As the guard led Zelda and Paya to the apartments down below, Sidon noticed that Link hadn’t budged. The Hylian Champion simply stood and stared at him, and Sidon got the distinct feeling that he was being judged.

“Link?” He finally asked. “Are you alright?”

He expected to see Link’s reply signed in that rapid, hard-to-keep-up-with way of his, but was surprised to hear his voice instead. “Are you?”

The question and his voice threw Sidon off. Are you okay? Of course he was okay. He was fine. Everything was fine.

Except that was a lie. “I asked you first.”

“No,” Link murmured. “I’m not okay. I wake up a century from my own time to find that all of my friends are dead and the world is still ending. The princess needs saving and I can’t even remember my father’s name. I’m haunted and people don’t remember me. I save the Divine Beasts and see my friends’ ghosts, but they’re still dead. I save the world, and thousands of people are still dead. The princess is back, and now we’re both being hunted and then we learn that the whole world is in danger again. I secretly wish I’d never woke up, or that I’d died along with everyone else. I’m not okay, so I’ll ask you again, are you?”

It was the most Sidon had ever heard from the champion. Links voice warped, croaked, crackled, and cracked as he spoke, and he sounded as though each word pained him, but Sidon noticed the flatness of his voice throughout it all.

“I...no. I suppose I’m not,” Sidon said. “My people are dying, and there’s no solution. Yet. Why are you asking?”

“Because you’ve been yellow and red the whole time,” Link murmured. Then, he turned on his heel and walked after the guard and his friends, as though that was the end of the conversation.

For a moment, Sidon just stood and stared after him. His own bioluminescence was suddenly noticeable, and he noticed the angry red and neon yellow dotting his scales.

He wondered if he’d ever see pink again. 


	13. A/N

Hey guys!

My editor is going through some things and won’t be able to see my chapter that’s due tomorrow until Monday. Because of that, there won’t be an update for 3/17. The missing chapter will be posted next Saturday along with the update for that following Saturday (so two chapters.)

Though I’m sorry that something is disrupting my schedule again, things happen :) 

See you next Saturday with a double update!


	14. Another A/N

I'm terribly sorry but something happened and I believe that I am going to have to put this fic on a hiatus. 

I do not know how long this hiatus will last, but I will continue to write for this story and create a buffer so that when the matter that effecting me is resolved, I'll have something to show. 

I hate being off schedule, already, and it sucks that I will have missed two Saturdays and more. 

As soon as I know when I'm able to work on this fic again, I'll put up an author's note and the two missing chapters that were promised last time. Please don't comment anything hateful and please don't think I'm abandoning this fic; I adore writing it. 

Sorry, again, and see you when I'm able to post again!


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